Rage Against the Dying of the Light
by WillowRook
Summary: Two young boys at different ends of the world. Much in common, but two different choices. One, the leading hope of the Light and the other the lieutenant of the Dark. An epic about overcoming the odds to become what they were born to be. The journey of two special wizards as they achieve their dreams, only for one to lose it all at the hands of the other. AU, OCs. Frequent updates.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 : A Trip Down Memory Lane

 **Disclaimer : I do not own any part of Harry Potter and all credit goes to J.K Rowling.**

 **A/N: First of all, thank you to everyone who has taken the time to have a look at this story. I have always been a massive fan of darker Harry Potter stories, which are probably my favorite followed by a strong and independent Harry Potter. However, I have come to the conclusion that it is very difficult to write a story revolving around Harry raised by the dark without resorting to various ludicrous ideas and cliches, hence have decided to try something different. I hope this a competent attempt at an engaging story with decent writing and grammar, minimal clichés and no unnecessary bashing of characters, focusing on subjects that have stagnated in recent time or/and do not have too many existing stories. It will not be a one sided story. This is my first attempt at writing after years of reading and I do hope to write at a fast pace but at the same time kindly excuse any minor writing errors, which I promise to try and keep low. All constructive feedback is welcomed and thank you again. (Warnings: Will be heavily AU in the future, might contain mature themes in the future resulting in a change of rating to 'M' and OCs. First few chapters to be slower paced)**

 **Chapter 1**

 _30_ _th_ _November 1979_

A cold wind swept through the overcast sky as the little remaining sunlight faded, the gloomy evening morphing into a starless night. Winter was approaching as the days died quickly and the nights grew long and silent. A magnificent castle stood tall and proud, a symbol of knowledge and progress, a temple of learning and most importantly of all, the result of ancient magic withstanding the tests of time. Hogwarts. The legendary school which had seen the hopes and dreams of thousands of children over centuries stood somber and quiet. There was an uneasiness in the air, a feeling that the inevitable was just around the corner. Indeed, this was the mood of most of the wizarding world in Britain. However, nowhere was it more palpable than in a high tower of the grand castle, where in an office filled with instruments of the most wondrous kind, behind a large desk, with his long delicate fingers joined, piercing blue eyes staring deep into space, sat an old man.

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was indeed a very old man. Perhaps the most impressive thing about Albus Dumbledore was not his various titles- Grand Sorcerer, Supreme Mugwump, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, Order of Merlin First Class, Headmaster of Hogwarts and many more. It wasn't even the fact that he was widely acknowledged as the greatest wizard of the last few centuries, blessed with a natural affinity for magic and a brain as sharp as any. It was the way one could effortlessly forget that the man before them was more than a century old. Dressed in colorful and cheerful robes, a long beard tucked into his belt, sharp blue eyes which seemed to twinkle unnaturally and were said to look straight into a person and a gentle and kind face, Albus Dumbledore was longevity, wisdom and goodness personified.

At the present however, he looked every bit his age. The twinkle from his eyes was lost, there was no soft smile, in its place was a man looking back down the years and most of all, regret. Albus Dumbledore looked back at his long and great life thus far. He had made many mistakes in his youth, the effects and memories of which still haunted him to this very day. One could not deny however, that he had done all that he could and more to rectify the mistakes he had made so very long ago. From fighting the darkness which threatened the peace of the wizarding world, to discovering the various uses of dragon blood, along the way revolutionizing politics with his fight for equality for the depressed and shunned, he had done more good for the wizarding world than anyone else in recent memory. He knew that he had learnt from his mistakes, the foolishness of The Greater Good was long left behind and he never desired power or control again. Considering his experience and knowledge it was all the more surprising to himself that he had committed a mistake of this magnitude. As an old friend had once reprimanded him, being smarter than most men his mistakes tended to be much bigger than the mistakes of lesser men. But, to have seen the creation of a monster take place before his own eyes and done nothing when he had the chance was the height of foolishness and he feared, his biggest mistake yet.

Albus Dumbledore walked to the window of his office and looked out into the fading light. Not for the first time, a face seemed to shimmer in front of his eyes. Ever so pale, a small but cruel smile etched upon it with dark eyes that suddenly flashed crimson. In spite of himself, Dumbledore shivered and it was not because of the cold wind. His trip down memory lane ended and regret flared within him stronger than ever as the aristocratic face of Tom Marvolo Riddle faded before his eyes.

 _30_ _th_ _November 1979, Malfoy Manor_

A trip down memory lane. The antithesis of Albus Dumbledore looked at his reflection in the still waters of the lake. Unlike the old fool everything about his physical appearance screamed elegance, power and most of all, danger. Tall and thin, with long spider like hands and skin so pale he seemed to glow. His once handsome features were replaced by a pale and snakelike face and there wasn't a hair on his body, which was decorated by black robes so fine and thin, they seemed to flow and swirl around him like shadows. He had always been alone, since the very day he was born. In his solitude he had experienced the way of non-magical folk. 'Mudbloods' a flash of irritation speared through his mind. He had witnessed their weakness. Their pride despite their lack of power. They had treated him worse than dirt, trying to take away whatever he had, despite the fact that he had nothing. He had already despised them before he learnt the truth about himself. Only once he had learnt more about himself and his world did he truly realize the dangers muggles posed.

Since as early as one could remember, muggles had been afraid of the unknown. They feared anything they couldn't understand. And what they didn't understand they ruthlessly wiped out. It had begun with the widespread burning of wizards and witches, which had ultimately led them into hiding. Since then both societies had progressed. He felt another flash of disgust in his mind as he dwelt upon the wizarding world, opening its walls, ready to accommodate and welcome muggles born with magic in spite of their lack of knowledge, their ignorance and of course their weakness. Wizards had begun to intermingle with muggles as the number of half-bloods rose. The wizarding world led by that old fool Albus Dumbledore believed they were becoming civilized and equality for all was preached. He knew better. The muggle world had progressed in leaps and bounds in their technology and ability to destroy. However, their fear and ignorance remained. As did their greed, hatred and negativity. Selfish beings who lacked all sense of dignity and respect the old pure blood wizards held so dear. Muggles who seek to destroy the power they can never have. And they would, sure as the sun would rise the next morning, once the inevitable slip happened and the wizards' existence was revealed, the armies and machinery of the muggle world would erase them from the face of the earth.

Thus, he sought to change things, to protect what he held dear. The power of magic. The purity of wizard blood, the old traditions and ways. The wizarding world had taken to following the muggles, trying to wipe out what they couldn't understand. After the era of Gellert Grindelwald the wizarding world looked down on and criminalized dark magic. Fools. There was no dark, there was no light. The only truth was power and the intent to use that power. The power of magic. Grindelwald had worked towards bringing down the organization of the wizarding world due to his belief in the Greater Good. He however, had other reasons.

His mother, she had been weak and death had taken her easily. Since his days in the dark orphanage alone where he discovered his powers, the only thing he had of his own, he made a vow which was only strengthened after he discovered his origins. Never would he be weak, never would he fall prey to death and let it rob him of the power he was blessed with. He would uphold the old ways and bring them back. The wizarding world had to move forward truly and it would do so under him. The last reason which spurred him on was the memories of what the muggles had done to him, every bit of torture he had faced at their hands. Tom Marvolo Riddle was dead. Lord Voldemort, Heir of Salazar Slytherin, the Greatest of The Hogwarts Four was what had risen from the ashes. And he never forgave, and he never forgot. He had been called a monster many times and he truly was. But insane? No, the only insanity in him was the burning desire to change what had gone wrong, and change it he would. He felt the comfort of the cold wind as blood red eyes stared unblinkingly into the distance.

 **A/N: Well, there is chapter one. I apologize if it's been too slow but I have always wanted to imagine the atmosphere right on the brink of war and of course the prophecy hasn't been made yet. I've tried to make Lord Voldemort's ideas and aims realistic, do let me know what you think. Please read and review, I find myself with too much time on my hands for my liking and if the story is well received I will definitely be updating every day for a couple of months. Feel free to PM me for any queries, feedback etc.**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 : The Black Sheep's Mistake

 **Disclaimer : I do not own any part of Harry Potter. All credit goes to J K Rowling.**

 **Chapter 2**

 _Greece, October 1981_

The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black was undoubtedly the most respected and feared pure-blooded wizarding family of Britain. One of the Sacred Twenty-Eight oldest and wealthiest British wizarding families, their aura and influence was all the more imposing due to the fact that the Blacks were the darkest family in recent centuries. Arrogant and wealthy, they not only commanded a large amount of political influence but were also notorious for producing the finest duelers in history, lethal and powerful with skill to match their strict and unshakable faith in the pure-blood ideals. In a sentence, the Blacks were as good as royalty.

As with every family, The Blacks in recent times had, to be quite frank found the 'black sheep' of the family. Sirius Orion Black, the older son of Orion Black inherited the aristocratic features and handsome looks of the family, with stormy grey eyes, pale and sharp features and a temper worthy of his ancestors. That however was where the resemblance ended. Sirius never shared the pure blood sentiments of the rest of his family. A powerful wizard, he never showed the slightest inclination towards working towards the family goals of protecting the pure blood superiority. In fact, he never embraced the dark arts either. At Hogwarts he generated widespread shock by becoming the first Black to be sorted into Gryffindor in place of Slytherin for an age and earned a reputation as an extremely talented, yet deviously troublesome albeit good hearted student.

His polar opposite attitude to that of the rest of the family ensured that Sirius did not last too long in Grimmauld Place. His acceptance towards the whole of society, lack of seriousness, proper decorum and his laid back go-easy demeanor resulted in him being banished from the family by his fanatic mother Walburga Black and he was as good as disowned by the family. This of course had no effect on the ever cheerful Sirius, who after completing his education brought further disrepute to his family of birth by becoming an auror or dark wizard catcher, and he joined the battle against the faction of Lord Voldemort and of course, his family.

Life as an auror was hard work but rewarding for Sirius. The last year however had taken a toll on the man physically and more importantly mentally. Dark wizard activity had increased drastically and the Ministry of Magic had been waiting for over a year for the major attack of Lord Voldemort's forces to arrive. After nearly a year of nervous anticipation, no one was quite sure what were the Dark Lord's plans and an uneasy retreat was undertaken by the aurors. Sirius, knowing he was nearing his pressure limit had taken a scouting assignment which brought him to Greece, where it was rumored that Voldemort was attempting to recruit fresh personnel. The trip however turned out to be an excuse for him to get some well-deserved rest and respite in the beautiful sunshine of the Greek region. Greece had a glowing reputation in the wizarding world as well and the pleasant weather matched with the ancient architecture was an irresistible attraction for tourists. Sirius fulfilled some of his school days' prank aims as many a tourist exploring the ruins with utmost dedication and perseverance was sent running away screaming of the grim being after his soul! Of course, being Sirius Black he spent many an hour in the company of the fairer sex, the beauty of the Greek ladies famous all over the world. A merry week of drunken debauchery had passed and his portkey back to London was due early the next morning and he felt fresh and was raring to get back to work.

Sirius' biggest weaknesses had always been women and a complete lack of responsibility. He had earned the reputation of a charming lady's man, playboy and a heartbreaker at Hogwarts with flings left, right and center, and it hadn't changed a bit since. Hence, when he woke up on the morning of his departure in bed next to a breathtakingly beautiful woman, he wasn't as surprised as one would expect a person in his situation to be. After a couple of minutes, it came back to him, he had walked into his favorite muggle bar hoping to have a last blowout night before returning to dreary Britain. To make a long story short, he had chatted up to, in his own words "the finest specimen of Greek beauty one could hope to find," a tall and slim woman with black, silky smooth hair, skin tanned golden brown as only those living in the Greek islands and the Mediterranean were, a soft, angular face and dark eyes that seemed to absorb all the light around them, leaving two stone like orbs. After a drink too many had taken her back to his inn. Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he looked at the sleeping woman next to him. He had not given her his surname in case the death eaters found out he had been there, instead introducing himself plainly as 'Sirius', but then with the one night stands he was used to, full names had never been the most important subject. He vaguely remembered the muggle woman calling herself 'Rhea' and was a simple waitress at the bar.

A tap at the window made him look up sharply, as a tawny owl stood on the window sill. He jumped out of bed and opened the window, grabbing the letter. A slight frown creased his handsome face as he recognized the thin and slanting handwriting of Albus Dumbledore, dated the previous night, requesting him to report to his office first thing in the morning. Seeing the woman fast asleep, he pulled out his wand and cast a quick Tempus only to jump out of bed as he realized his portkey was due to leave in five minutes. Torn between waking Rhea up, giving an explanation and risk missing his portkey, or making a quiet exit, Sirius made a split second decision to leave. He could always return later on a weekend and catch up with the stunning muggle woman. He threw on his clothes, rushed to the top of the inn and apparated to the Greek portkey terminal promising himself to return as soon as he could. Little did Sirius Black know how drastically his life would change over the next week. That one act of irresponsibility would prove to be a turning point in the fate of the wizarding world.

Rhea Demos turned her head sharply as the sharp sunlight struck her smooth face. She opened her eyes and was completely awake instantly, almost like a cat as her dark eyes hardened. It wasn't unusual, she rarely slept peacefully and seeing the difficulties she had faced in her life, it was not surprising. Born to wealthy parents, her childhood was eventful and definitely not happy. Wealth was never enough for her father, who in his greed to earn more pushed himself too hard and passed away as a result of excessive drinking. Her mother remarried and did not have much time for her, instead choosing to help out in her new husband's business. On finishing her school education Rhea left her abusive step father and uncaring mother and took the first job she could find in order to sustain herself. She had been bestowed with extremely good looks even for a Greek and her willingness to work ensured that she found a job as a waitress in a bar ironically of all places. The pay was barely enough for her to live decently but considering she had no higher education beyond high school, it was the best she could hope for.

She glanced at the empty space beside her and sighed. She was used to it by now, customers taking her out and spending the night. Of course they never wanted a long relationship but this particular man, 'Sirius' she smiled to herself had seemed different from the rest and for a moment she felt he wasn't there just because of the sex. There was goodness in him which was rare and she had felt it. For a while she had believed he was not like the rest but well, it wasn't anything new. The small smile slid off her face as she began to dress up and reach home for a shower before another long day's work. She would not give that night another thought until a couple of months later, by which time the wheels of fate would already be in motion.

 **A/N: Chapter two done then, heavily AU yes and brutally slow I know but a vital part of the story. Within a couple of chapters, I think we'll be at Harry and the first glimpse of his life. Hopefully this is original so far. Have received a couple of follows and favorites in the three hours since I posted this as well as a few reviews, thank you to those who did, I appreciate it greatly. Once again, feel free to criticize and leave feedback. If this does get a good response, chapter 3 should be up within the next six hours. Enjoy!**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 : Coming of the Storm

 **Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Harry Potter. All credit goes to J K Rowling.**

 **A/N: Shout out to UltimateTouken, who left an extremely useful review and some much needed advice. This will be the last chapter consisting of backstory, I think I've managed to wrap it up and the next chapter will mark the beginning of the main story and the chapters will be around this length (approx. 2.5k words) Once again thanks to all those who read this and as always, criticism and feedback is welcome.**

 **Chapter 3**

 _Headmaster's office, November, 1981_

"Albus."

There were some things in the world that even the most powerful of wizards had trouble containing. An agitated Minerva McGonagall was undoubtedly of them. At that moment she was quite clearly in her element, lips pursed, her mouth a barely visible thin and straight line and her severe face with tightened eyes glaring daggers at a decidedly depressed man.

The subject of her ire took a deep breath, as if steadying himself and motioned a hand towards the seat in front of him. "I owe you answers, Minerva and now you will have them. Please, make yourself comfortable."

The Head of Gryffindor seemed to deflate, the anger replaced by a deep sadness as she nodded weakly and sank into a seat opposite the Headmaster.

"Harry is not out of danger. The last few hours have yielded disturbing and indeed, unforeseen news," he said softly. "The Lestranges have gone into hiding. All attempts to find them have been unsuccessful. You know as well as I do, they will search for the boy. The Malfoys continue to be seen as a generous and respected family with good intentions. They couldn't find a scrap of incriminating evidence on them. The Master is gone but the death eaters remain for now."

McGonagall started before sitting back heavily. It was a blow, but not an unexpected one. The Malfoys were wealthy, and in the Ministry, it was no secret that money talked and got jobs done. The Lestranges were powerful. If they wished to remain hidden it would be next to impossible to find him.

"But those Muggles of all people Albus," she said gesticulating heavily, "He will have no home there, they will treat him worse than an animal. You know how they despise our kind. He deserves better, there are many who would consider it an honor to take him in. Surely Sirius is not…" she said desperately.

"Nothing is certain Minerva. For all we know it really was Sirius. My heart tells me he had nothing to do with it and I truly tried everything I could. However, everything points towards him, his family history, his closeness with the Potters' and his absence in the previous days. I implored Fudge and Crouch to give him a trial, but the mood is one of vengeance in the Ministry. They have already deported him to Azkaban. I have failed," Dumbledore murmured as he closed his eyes. He did not believe for a second that Sirius was guilty. He had pushed for his release all he could until he was threatened with arrest. The evidence pointed to Sirius Black, nothing could be done for him, not while Bartemius Crouch in his unsteady state of mind continued to seek retribution for years of loss.

"There is another unexplained fact and I fear it is the most worrying. Lord Voldemort's body was not found." For a long minute, the transfiguration professor simply stared at her mentor as her face lost all color. "What are you suggesting Albus? There is no way he could have survived. I saw the remains of the magical backlash with my own eyes!"

Dumbledore's eyes seemed to darken as he shook his head, "The thirst for power coupled with fear can lead a person to delve ever deeper into the most obscure of magics. I can only guess at what he has done to himself, but there is no denying it. He is not dead. There are too many riddles with no answers in sight. What remains of him, where is he and what will he do? I am certain it will not be soon, but one day Lord Voldemort will return and he will go straight for Harry Potter."

McGonagall shook herself out of her shock. The last couple of days alone had aged her by many years. The murder of two of her close friends and ex-students, the conviction of one who's innocence she believed in with all her heart and the apparent and completely unexpected destruction of the Dark Lord on the brink of victory, only to be revealed as false and that the peace which had been earned after so much loss would not endure was too much for one to handle at once. She stared long and hard at the headmaster, "Are you certain it is what is best for him, Albus?" she whispered.

"I would never settle for less in Harry's case. His safety is paramount. Lily's sacrifice will ensure that he will be safest at the home of her last remaining family member. I can only hope Petunia treats him as her own and not as a representation of the ability she never could have. The dark will not touch him there until he is ready. I promise," came the sad reply which nonetheless held a strong conviction.

He rose gingerly and walked over to the window as had done so many times in the past as the anxious deputy headmistress looked on. Peace had come as the darkness had been driven back. Many had been surprised by the unexpected source of victory but not Albus Dumbledore. The prophecy crept into his thoughts and he pushed it away. It was not time yet. Yes, peace had come but at what price? He shook his head as he apologized to the now imprisoned Sirius Black and swore to himself he would not let the man lose his spirit in that accursed hell. He paid homage to the memory of two of the most talented students he had taught, James and Lily. They had grown up to be wonderful and kind people and loyal workers of the Light and their sacrifice would remain an inspiration to all. But most of all, he said a prayer for Harry Potter, the pale skinned orphaned baby with jet black hair, a jagged scar adorning his forehead as his emerald green eyes, the color of the vilest of spells gleamed in the night. The words softy escaped his lips- "Stay strong Harry."

 _Greece, 31_ _st_ _May 1982_

It was a vicious night. The month of May is considered to be one of the best times to visit Greece with bright and sunny weather and minimal rainfall. That particular night however was inauspicious. Rain lashed at the buildings and trees as a howling wind whipped at the face of the lone figure struggling down the drenched path. The area was enveloped in darkness and the surprised residents wrenched their windows and blinds shut. A sudden flash of lightning illuminated the sky and threw into sharp view the lone figure battling through the biting wind and rain. It was a woman and a pregnant one as her figure indicated. She was dressed in the clothes of a pauper, filthy, torn and worn out rags, brown water dripping from the soaked 'clothing' if It could be referred as such. She had no shoes on and held nothing in her arms and all in all, was the epitome of poverty. Her face stuck out in complete contrast to her outfit, she was beautiful beyond description the only blemish being a long scar marking the flawless golden-brown skin of her right cheek as the lightning was lost in her stone like dark eyes. It was clear she was struggling to stay conscious, perhaps had blisters on the soles of her feet as she looked around, searching for a light desperately. Suddenly, her hunched figure stood up straight and tall as she saw a bright light at the end of the road. Hope filled her once again as she struggled towards it, the cry of the wind drowning out the sound of the honking of the light which seemed to fill up her vision as it sped towards her until it was blinding. She squeezed her eyes shut as she heard the screech of tires and then she knew no more.

Life had not been kind to Rhea Demos over the last seven months. It had been tough but nothing out of the ordinary since that fateful night in October last year. Until one day in January, when her world had been turned upside down. She was pregnant. It had been a massive shock. Sure, she had spent nights with customers before but they were always rich locals or businessmen tourists who never wanted a long term relationship and most definitely did not want an illegitimate child. She did not need to be blessed with extraordinary powers of deduction to realize the father was the handsome and charming Englishman she had met three months ago. They had been drunk beyond measure and since then she had not shared a bed. That was the beginning of her problems. Rhea had never had anything of her own for years. The comforts of childhood long gone, she never had clothes, jewelry or in fact, any possessions of her own. Now, she had been gifted one from above. A child, from a handsome, good and respectable man or so she believed. For two months she had waited, working at the bar in the constant hope Sirius would show up once again. He had promised to her that he would see her again very soon hadn't he? She promised herself she would keep her child. It wasn't to last. The characterless bar owner, decided he didn't want a waitress who would be taking an extended break for months. He refused to pay her and she lost her job. Rhea had never had much money once she ran away from home and what little she had saved didn't last. Without money to pay her rent, she was on the streets. Desperate and filled with fear she went searching for her parents only to learn her mother had died a couple of years ago. Thus began the worst months of her life as she unsuccessfully searched for a job, managing to stay for a few days at inns but being thrown out when she was unable to make the payment. One night whilst looking for a place to stay she was jumped on by a drunk stranger, violated and cut with a knife across her face and dumped on the roadside. Her spirit broken and all hope lost she struggled towards her home for more than a decade. Her old work place, the bar. The old wife of the owner had always been kind to her and would not turn her down in such a condition, which is how she ended up outside the bar, struck by a speeding car on the wicked night of 31st May, 1982.

The old wife was fixing herself a warm drink for the chilly night when she heard a soft thump on the door. At first she was sure it was a figment of her imagination and was about to go back to bed when she heard it again followed by a soft cry. She walked over with a lantern and creaked open the door only to gasp in horror. Her old employee, the young woman Rhea was crouched at the door, a huge gash on her head and blood streaming down her face and leaving a trail on the road from where she had crawled over. She was barely conscious, shivering uncontrollably and clearly pregnant. Immediately she screamed out for her husband and daughter as she dragged the woman in. Rhea was burning and had a high fever and the lady was beginning to call out again when the crippled woman grabbed the front of her blouse and whispered. "My child. Save my child, please" she wept, her half open eyes filled with pain, the stone like hardness fading.

Rhea was in a world of pain. Nothing existed but the periodic spasms raking through her body. Her head felt like it was splitting into two and she felt herself burn, barely registering the presence before the pain took her again.

A shuddering burst of agony brought her back and she could hear screaming, before she realized the pained shouts were coming from her own mouth. The pain reached a peak and she nearly passed out again before there was nothing. Everything stopped and seemed to disappear. But she felt something, a heaviness increasing in her head and a quickly approaching emptiness in her chest and stomach and somehow she immediately knew. She was dying. Ironically, she felt no fear. The first thing to go through her surprisingly clear mind was pain and defeat. Just when she was earning something of her own, truly her own, it was being snatched away from her. The pain of realization she would never see her child again struck deep into her dying heart and for a moment she wished death would take her then, just to ease the pain, pain stronger than anything she had felt. She pushed the thought away, willing herself to hang on for another minute, to catch one glimpse of her child. The pain was swiftly replaced by anger. White hot rage flowed through her broken body as she cursed Sirius for never returning, cursed her father for leaving her and moving on, her mother for abandoning her. 'Rhea', she was named after the wife of the greatest Titan. After the mother of the Gods. A great name and an empty life, that had always been her fate. She faintly heard someone calling her name and with a tremendous effort, turned her head and opened her fading eyes. A beautiful boy filled her vision. The aristocratic features of the Blacks were crystal clear but his black, silky- smooth hair and golden brown skin were of his mother and lastly, two stone like eyes, set hard and dark as his mother's before him.

A last thought went through her brain. Despite her royal name she had lived an empty pain filled life. All she wanted was for them to suffer, for taking her first but last gift from her after torturing her for years. The last sound she ever heard was the raging storm as a myth flashed through her brain. The myth of the bane of the Gods, the bringer of storms and of death. A trembling hand reached out and stroked the black hair, reveling in their smoothness, an infinitely tender gesture as she choked out "Typhus Canicula Demos…." Her son turned and looked straight into her, his dark eyes hardening and filling with an unnatural blackness, drinking her in and filling the vision of Rhea Demos as the last of the black darkness faded from her eyes.

 **A/N: That's the end of the backstory, the first visit to Privet Drive comes up next. Typhus is derived from Typhon of Greek mythology, the storm bringing nemesis of the Gods of Olympus. Canicula is another name for the brightest star in the night sky- Sirius. Thanks for reading and once again feel free to criticize and give feedback!**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 : A Beautiful Hell

 **Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Harry Potter. All credit goes to J K Rowling.**

 **A/N: Finally, for me this is where the main story begins. Sure there is a bit of backstory left but nothing vital to the tone and pace of the story. My depiction of Harry Potter will be noticeably different from canon, as I don't intend to make him a pushover. Rest assured there will not be an overpowered and way too mature for his age Harry, but rather a boy who has learnt to survive to the best of his ability in the environment he has been put in.**

 **Chapter 4**

 _Little Whinging, Surrey, May 1990_

At first glance Number Four, Privet Drive in the county of Surrey was as normal a place as one could find in the whole town of Little Whinging. The typical upper middle class household with a picturesque drive way, a fine car, and an impeccably maintained lawn. Absolutely nothing out of the ordinary or so people believed. If one were to come across Number Four at that moment, the first thought that sprung to the mind would be that of appreciation as a young boy clipped away at the bushes. The parents must deserve credit for instilling the virtues of hard work in the child and other opinions along the same line.

The topic of discussion was at first glance a regular young boy. Aged nine, he was on the shorter side, lean and had what was the beginning of a light but compact frame. He was small but by no means weak, instead his small but thin frame gave the suggestion of him being used to physical activity and a hint of undernourishment. His jet black hair was messy and stuck up in various directions but it suited him, giving him a rugged and wind swept look. The only obvious chink in his 'normalness' were his clothes. By no means rags, they were faded and clearly at least a couple of sizes too big and seemed to flow all over him. Conveniently they also hid his marked and thin body as well as possible. While his neck was brown from long hours of outdoor work, his face remained pale. With his delicately shaped facial structure, there was no doubt he would grow up to be a good looking man.

The only natural feature which hinted at something more unusual were his eyes. Quite simply, his eyes were almond shaped emeralds, and a very vivid shade of green, one which muggles were not accustomed to. Many a person had been disturbed to find they could not hold eye contact with the boy for too long. The emerald eyes seemed to flash unnaturally and glow brighter with every passing second and were covered by a pair of taped up, worn out spectacles with a round and circular frame, which did serve the purpose of not bringing them to too much attention.

Harry Potter flashed a smile at the passing by postman. His manners were perfect, despite the fact that his 'family' had never imparted any knowledge, teaching or positive instructions of any kind since as long back as he could remember. However, he had not always been the polite boy he grown into. He grabbed a bottle of water and sat down with his back against the wall of the house, hidden by the tall row of well-trimmed bushes and wiped the sweat off his forehead just as his relatives walked out the door and drove away. He leant back and memories flashed crystal clear in his mind.

" _Freak!" spat Aunt Petunia as she roughly thrust a plate of cold bread and cheese at him…." Get down here boy, the shed isn't going to paint itself," came the booming shout of his uncle…..The agonizing pain as his head crashed into the cement when his cousin Dudley ambushed him…..His uncle standing before him with belt as he struggled to keep himself from crying out as the leather tore into his skin, all he had done was drop a plate…..the laughter of the rest of his peers at school as they pointed at him, chucking the occasional rock at the small boy in baggy clothes….the darkness of his cupboard as the scurrying of spiders kept him awake till dawn.._

He shook himself out of his thoughts. There was no use looking at those memories unless absolutely necessary. The first seven years of his life had been hell. Probably worse. Ever since he had been considered old enough to start school, his time outside of schooling had been completely devoted to chores and work. He knew all about maids and household workers. He was one, just without the advantages of receiving a salary. Any questions directed to his uncle and aunt were rewarded with a slap across the face or a belting. His dear cousin Dudley had ensured he had no life outside of the house either, as all children of his age had been made aware of the freak and kept their distance. That is, unless they were in a group and decided to entertain themselves by teaching the scrawny boy a lesson in physical violence. Put simply, if not for his own resourcefulness, Harry Potter would have grown up to be a child with no knowledge of the working of the world, no basic courtesy, manners or etiquette.

But Harry Potter was perhaps the most resourceful nine-year-old one could hope to come across. He was a smart boy, grasping concepts and ideas much more quickly than the average toddler. When he was six he had briefly considered running away after a particular bad beating but dismissed the idea almost immediately. He had nothing and knew no one. Death was not something he was eager to make an acquaintance with. Harry's abusive life had driven him to develop interests not usually found in the average youngster. Rather than lust after toys, sweets, electronics and what not his real passion became knowledge, something he had never been allowed to have. Harry Potter knew nothing of his real worth and reputation. His Aunt had told him he was orphaned in a car crash and it was her sister's last wish that led him to the family. Any further questions were ignored and Harry knew nothing of his parents. For him it was almost as they never existed. Hence, _knowledge, creativity and resourcefulness_ were the three things he lived by.

Reading books at school or in the public library when his Aunt and Uncle were out, drawing and painting only to have them torn and thrown away, picking up on bits of important information and day to day trends by overhearing conversations at school and mimicking the speech and movements of his aunt and uncle as well as guests during dinners were only some of the examples of methods Harry used to unknowingly overcome the limits of his private life and develop into a normal, in fact rather sharp boy. As he grew older Harry realized there was no use crying into the night or cursing his luck for the life he had been given. It was beyond him to change it, hence he decided to make the best use of it. He learnt to ignore the barbs and verbal abuse of his family, he welcomed chores and work and performed them without complaints to the best of his ability once he read about the long term benefits of physical activity (of course the fear of ending up as a whale like his cousin was strong motivation as well), he learnt never to speak at home unless spoken to, along with various other tricks to avoid his daily beatings. At the same time keeping in mind the treatment he received at home, he ensured he was never the same to any other human being. Completely honest and polite, he was a charming boy who instantly caught the eye of the people he interacted with, which was very rare considering he wasn't allowed to spread his freakishness by stepping outside the driveway unless he was catching the school bus. He was kind to his peers and respectful to his teachers who always wondered how such a nice boy could perform so miserably in his tests, failing to see the real reason behind his lack of performance in class.

Yes, life had changed for the better for Harry Potter over the last couple of years and it was all his own work. And the small matter of his freakishness. Sitting behind the bushes, his polite normal exterior faded and was replaced by a look of pure joy and delight as he looked back on the day he had discovered his 'power.'

" _Run!' his mind screamed as he turned a corner sharply, only to be faced with a dead end, a tall grey wall blocking his path. He could hear Dudley and his group approaching and pure fear and terror reflected on his pale features. He squeezed his eyes shut the only thought running in his brain that of escape. Miraculously the footsteps seemed to fade. He opened his eyes and nearly fainted of shock. He was on the roof of the school building, a magnificent view of the city clear from his point. The surprise was quickly replaced by despair. "How on earth am I going to explain this?" he thought to himself. He was close to panicking and breaking down completely when all of a sudden he found himself back on the ground. He stood there absolutely still for a long moment before a smile lit up his face. "Freak" he whispered to himself."_

He wasn't quite sure what it exactly was but he was different. He had tried to replicate the events of that day many a time for a few months with no success. The next time he had come across his power was when he had received the worst haircut of his life from Aunt Petunia only to find his hair right as rain the next morning after a night filled with apprehension of the inevitable teasing at school. He wasn't able to use his powers at will but personally he felt he had improved over the last year, his intent and concentration enabling him to perform the simplest of tasks, which was indeed an improvement from when it surfaced only during the worst of situations.

Harry Potter was a boy who had learnt something most adults take a lifetime to achieve. Acceptance and satisfaction.He hadn't cried since he was six, back when he had truly accepted he had nowhere else to go. As long as he stayed out of trouble and was able to read in the town library, there wasn't anything else he wanted in his short life. Most of all, Harry Potter was a good and kind human being who had not let the horrors of childhood sway him like many before him rather focusing on the bright side of what he had- obtaining knowledge and every day being thankful for his 'freakish power'.

 **A/N: There will not be an overpowered or Godly Harry in this story but I do not want him to be a frail pushover. I have tried to depict a clear minded, rational and hard working Harry, a good hearted character with a thirst for knowledge. He is aware of his magic and can manipulate it but not with the same strength and intent as Tom Riddle. Obviously as depicted the thought of using his power for a negative purpose has not crossed his mind. Personally I do not feel he is overly mature for a nine year old. Thanks for reading and do let me know what you think.**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 : An Admission of Guilt.

 **Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Harry Potter. All credit goes to J K Rowling.**

 **A/N: After the introduction of Harry, I had originally planned to write a chapter on the OC but at the moment keeping the flow going seems like a better option. So here we are, Harry receives his Hogwarts letter. I always felt Harry wasn't informed or rather aware enough of his past when he arrived at Hogwarts, so I've tried something different here.**

 **Chapter 5**

 _24_ _th_ _July 1991_

Two tall figures walked up the driveway of Privet Drive on a sunny afternoon. One would have thought they were due at a fancy dress party, as their unusual outfits were guaranteed to attract attention. Albus Dumbledore, wearing long purple robes decorated with large stars, his long beard tucked into his belt and a pointed hat adorning his head, stopped at the door and turned to the grumbling figure behind him. Dressed in all black robes which billowed behind him, his deathly pale face half hidden by a curtain of long hair as his dark eyes and deep scowl conveyed his displeasure.

"Severus, this is something that must be done. Do try to keep an open mind. The child is not his father. Observe him closely, we cannot take chances."

A slight inclination of the head was the only sign that Severus Snape had heard the headmaster, as he reached up and rang the doorbell.

A few seconds later the door swung open to reveal the horse like inquisitive face of Petunia Dursley. She looked at Dumbledore and immediately paled. Her eyes fell upon the bat like man next to the headmaster and a scowl marred her face. "You! What are you doing here?" she fired. Snape's scowl deepened and he opened his mouth to retort but Dumbledore was faster. "Good afternoon Petunia, it has been many years since our last correspondence. We wish to have a few words with young Harry."

Petunia unhappily moved aside to let them in, her eyes glancing at them in fear. She barely heard Dumbledore compliment her on the home as she moved to the tiny cupboard under the stairs and rapped on the door sharply, constantly shooting fearful looks over her shoulder dreading the reaction of the wizards. The gestures were not missed by Dumbledore yet the serene smile remained although the sharpening of his gaze belying his feelings on the treatment of the boy.

A small figure emerged though he was hidden by the form of the woman as she pointed towards the hall. He immediately moved and she gestured for the guests to follow. As they reached the entrance of the hall, Dumbledore turned to Petunia, "I hope you will grant us some privacy, we have waited for many years to speak to young Harry and it is of utmost importance." She gave a shaky nod and practically fled up the stairs, the sharp stare of Severus Snape following her.

The wizards turned their attention to the boy sitting in front of them for the first time. A splitting image of his father, he was dressed in baggy clothes and seemed thin for his age. A small smile and an expression of polite puzzlement was clear on his face. It was obvious he was not used to visitors asking for him. Dumbledore took a seat right in front of the boy as Snape, his lips curling up in the beginning of a sneer stepped back into the background.

"Good afternoon Harry, I am Headmaster Albus Dumbledore and this is Professor Severus Snape." he began, gesturing to the man behind him who nodded tightly.

"Hello Sirs, it's nice to meet you." His voice was clear and the polite smile never left his face, but one could see the curiosity deepen and his green eyes narrowed ever so slightly. He started as if something was on the tip of his tongue before sitting back once again, green eyes fixed on the headmaster. It was a small gesture and one which would be easily missed but the headmaster caught it effortlessly.

He inclined his head in a sign of polite curiosity as Harry continued to stare at him for a long minute before snapping to the professor in the background. He seemed to struggle with himself for a moment before softly blurting out "You're different."

Of all the things he had expected Harry Potter to first say, that was the last. A quiet but sharp breath behind him showed Severus was equally surprised as well. Dumbledore had been aware of how Harry was treated when he was younger. He had been ready to step in and have a firm word with his Uncle and Aunt when Arabella Fig, the squib neighbor living next to Number Four had told him the boy seemed to be adapting and in fact looked close to normal. Reluctantly, he had refrained from voicing his disappointment in Petunia and had continued to stay away. When he arrived at Privet Drive he was not sure what to expect from young Harry and he had to admit, it had been a surprise. Harry seemed like a regular boy yet showed no negativity, nothing to suggest that he had just spent hours in a locked cupboard. He was polite and seemed sharp yet seemed to emit a small amount of 'unusualness' as if he was hiding something. It was confusing to say the least.

"I'm afraid I don't quite follow you Harry. Just what exactly do you mean by different?" he said gently.

Harry looked around as if checking if someone was eavesdropping before speaking "You're like me. I can feel it. Are you freaks as well?" The clear voice was gone replaced by a soft and surprised voice. Dumbledore felt as if Harry Potter had just lowered the ordinary exterior he had unknowingly built over himself.

"How are you different my boy?" he questioned gently. Seeing Harry's sudden nervousness and hesitation, he prodded him on "We are different, yes. But freak is a rather unsavory term don't you agree?"

A small smile graced the young boy's face as he eased back. He took a saucer from the table beside him and held it up before placing it back again. He closed his eyes and his face took upon an expression of strain and concentration as the saucer slowly rose into the air. It hovered for a second before suddenly dropping. Dumbledore, who had been expecting this and had his wand ready quickly pointed it at the falling projectile before it struck the ground. Harry, sweating slightly from the effort stared at the long piece of wood before following the saucer at it floated across the room and gently placed itself on the dining table. Snape was watching Harry with a calculating look but the boy did not notice it. The small smile was replaced by a wide grin as his eyes gleamed.

Dumbledore looked at the boy before revealing "You are no freak, young one. We are _wizards_. Blessed with the gift of _Magic_."

There was no surprise or shock on the face of Harry Potter. In fact, there was a look of wonder that can only be brought about by the discovery of a whole new world and subsequently at a result, whole new possibilities. "Is that what I really am? Are there more of us?" he quickly asked, praying this wasn't a massive prank Dudley had arranged.

"There are quite of us left yes, though our world is in hiding. As you already know, the muggles are not used to idea of magic yet, but yes Harry, you are indeed a wizard. As were your parents before you."

The atmosphere seemed to change instantly. The pure joy was replaced by a blank look. "You knew my parents?" the words were whispered, barely audible. Harry's breath caught in this chest. Being an orphan had been very hard on him. He had grown up without the love of his mother and the comfort of his father. Dudley had made quite a few nasty comments about his state as an orphan, which always led him to tears in the dark of his cupboard at night. He had thought about them till it was painful, wondered how they would have looked and if they still watched over him from above. His aunt and uncle rarely spoke of them and when they did, always had an expression of disgust on their faces. All he knew was they had died in a car crash. Nothing else. After many a night of pain and tears he had forced himself to stop thinking of them. No, they were not forgotten. Rather, he learnt to ignore and block out the constant pain of loss. The revelation that his parents were like him, were powerful and that there were people who could tell him more about them quickly broke the tight hold he had been keeping on the sadness of never knowing his parents. At that very moment he felt pain and shock as he had never felt before.

Dumbledore's face was one of sadness as he nodded "I taught them about magic Harry. They were my students and went on to become my very good friends. Not a day goes by without me remembering them and their sacrifice."

A hint of puzzlement breached the blank façade while a flash of pain, quickly hidden was missed on Snape's scowling features.

"I don't understand Sir. They told me my parents were killed in a car crash." His voice was quiet and expectant. He could feel something was about to be revealed to him.

In spite of himself, Snape could not suppress a snort of disgust. How typical of Petunia to hide the truth from her nephew he thought. Dumbledore was not surprised. Leaving Harry here had been one of the toughest decisions of his life and his heart reached out to the young boy.

"Tell me Harry, are you aware of the wars that take place in the world? People fighting each other over ideals, for power and for wealth in a never ending cycle." On receiving a short nod, he continued "The wizarding world is no different. There is the Light and the Dark. More than a decade ago there was widespread war between the two sides. The Dark believed in their superiority and right to rule and bring down the government." Harry had read about wars in the newspapers and while sneaking on his relatives while they watched the news on the television and he nodded. Dumbledore continued "The Dark was led by one of the most powerful and evil wizards ever known. A man called Voldemort who went after any who stood in his way. Your parents were loyal and strong fighters of the Light. We fought together for peace. Your relatives lied to you Harry, it is an insult to their memory. They were two of the bravest people I had ever known. They were murdered Harry, by the Dark Lord Voldemort himself."

For how long he sat there, he would never know. Time seemed to stop as something stirred deep within Harry Potter. Sadness beyond words seemed to overwhelm him and for the first time in years, Harry Potter cried, tears falling silently down his cheeks. From nowhere a powerful anger mingled with the sadness and after an age he choked out, grinding his teeth "Where is he?"

Dumbledore could not help but marvel at the strength of the boy. He was truly Lily's son, his spirit strong and couldn't be held down. "He was defeated Harry. His body was broken and he disappeared. Some say he died."

"Who killed him?"

"Why you of course Harry." Seeing the bewildered and incredulous expression on the pale face he continued. "On the very night, after attacking your parents he turned to you Harry. He attempted to kill you only to be destroyed himself, his curse rebounding on himself for what reason, the world still does not know. That is how you got your scar. You are the Boy Who Lived, Harry. The one who brought peace to the wizarding world. You will find that you are famous and a celebrity, the people of our world indebted to you."

Harry was dumbstruck. He leaned back in his chair and nodded weakly. "It's all a bit too much to take in right now sir. Please, if I am as famous as you say how did I end up here of all places. I have never felt welcome here," he murmured.

Dumbledore took a deep breath as he bowed his head. "The reason you are here Harry is seated before you. Please, hear me out," he said as Harry recoiled as if struck. "The Dark was defeated but not wiped out. Many servant of Voldemort remained free even after his disappearance, some in the highest levels of power in the government. They came after you Harry, all these years they have been searching for the boy who was the cause of their Master's downfall. If you were to come into their clutches, I am afraid you would not have survived. I was the one who hid you here. There are magical protections upon this house of an ancient kind. I did it to keep you safe, to keep you hidden and most importantly to keep you alive."

He mulled over the words of the old man in front of him. He could feel the power radiating off him as well as the sulking man who hadn't spoken a word yet. His instincts told him to trust the man, Albus Dumbledore, but it was a big task considering the fact he had never trusted anyone before. Face blank and voice devoid of emotion but also lacking hostility he asked the question that had been on his mind ever since he first set eyes on the eccentrically dressed men. "But why are you here then Sir. As you said, I am clearly safe."

Dumbledore looked up and spoke, voice filled with sincerity "I am here to apologize my boy. And furthermore to rectify my mistakes. As I have already told you, I am a professor as is professor Snape here. As Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Magic and Wizardry, I am here to offer you a seat at the premier educational institution of magical instruction in Britain."

That was the last straw for young Harry. The look on his face could have lit up the whole of Surrey as his with trembling lips he spoke in a cracking voice "Me? You would take me in?"

"Of course Harry. I had the honor of teaching your parents and your name has been in our records since the day you were born. The time is ripe for you to return to the wizarding world. Your real world. I ask for your forgiveness; you have suffered more than a child of your age ever should. If you would allow it, I will teach you all I can. You are destined to be great Harry Potter. Take the next step in your journey towards it." Said the headmaster in a formal tone.

"I cannot possibly afford it Sir" he began but was immediately cut off, "There is much you do not know Harry and it will all be explained in due time. All I need for now is an answer."

He shook his head weakly, "Yes Sir, I'd love to. Thank you.." he broke off. A beaming Dumbledore stood up and placed a hand on his shoulder "Now, now young man, there will be none of that. Here, this is for you, read through it carefully. Two days from now a representative of your school will be here in the morning to help you with everything you need."

With that he turned around "Petunia, may I have a word please?". Immediately a red faced Aunt Petunia came into the hall. The headmaster looked straight at her as he spoke in a hard voice. "You have disappointed me Petunia. One day you will have to answer to Lily, I promise. You will make sure Harry is taken well care of for the next three months here before he arrives at school. I hope we are very clear on this." Petunia nodded frantically, red faced and teary. He turned to Harry, "Till next time Harry, I will see you again soon. Be strong." And with that he strode out of the house. Severus Snape threw a last unreadable glance at the young boy before striding out as well, leaving a nervous Aunt and a young boy sitting still with a stupid grin on his tear stained face.

"We have been lucky Severus"

They were back in the headmasters' office as Dumbledore leaned back eyes closed, sucking on a lemon drop with complete contentment.

"The brat will turn out like his father once we he is exposed to his fame Albus. Wait and watch, I know it."

Dumbledore chuckled softly, an agitated Severus was often extremely entertaining. He looked back at the afternoon. Harry had done brilliantly. His childhood had been similar to Tom's but the two boys couldn't have been more different. Harry was powerful, not close to Tom at that age but he was aware of his powers and could sense magic. The fact that in spite of the awareness, Harry had not resorted to using his powers with the potent intent to hurt his abusive surroundings was all the more heartening. The looks were where the similarities between the two ended. Now that he was actively ensuring the well-being of Harry, a great weight lifted off his heart. He truly was the son of The Potters'.

 **A/N: Dumbledore works towards fixing his mistakes. I am still undecided about the view of the next chapter but it will be up within a day's time for sure. As always feel free to review and criticize. Thanks and enjoy!**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6 : Flight Through the Night

 **Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Harry Potter. All credit goes to J K Rowling.**

 **A/N: Slowly getting a better response. Seeing the fact most readers seem to look at the first chapter and not go further I'd like to reiterate- The main character of this fic is Harry and the OC will not replace his position or even meet him till way later. A big thank you to all those who took the time out to offer their suggestions and feedback, it's proved to be very useful.**

 **Chapter 6**

 _Greece, 1990_

" _Lacero!"_

A blood red arc sped through the air as the hit wizard slashed his wand downwards, the cutting curse aimed in the general direction of a sharp turn, down which three figures barely visible in the moonlight sprinted through an alley. A wild scream pierced the air as the curse took them by surprise and the hit wizard smirked as he basked in the success of his ambush.

"Here we go again," a rasping voice grumbled, looking down as the struck figure pulled itself up from the ground, a dark and filthy hand covering the gash in its side as blood flowed down the black robes. A second's pause as hooded eyes scanned the direction from which the attack had come before, " _Avada Kedavra!"_ The drawing of the wand was a blur as a dark piece of wood swung upwards and a yell was followed by a flash of bright green light. Simultaneously a rushing sound was heard as the killing curse sped towards the shocked hit wizard who barely had time to wipe the smirk off his face before he dropped dead.

Bellatrix Lestrange giggled in delight before sneering "Pathetic scum." She leaned forward in anticipation at the sound of approaching footsteps but was roughly grabbed from behind "Enough! There are too many of them, we must keep moving," came the deep rough voice of Rabastan Lestrange as he put a steadying arm around the panting witch.

"Look out!" rasped Rudolphus as a group of ten wizards in dark blue robes turned a corner and immediately caught sight of the trio. He turned around only to find another squad of hit wizards appear in front of them. Dragging his wife along he began sprinting down the only available road to his left as the shouts of the hit wizards followed them.

They turned again and again, moving swiftly while they desperately looked for a route out of the maze of narrow alleys and lanes. The pursuers were closing in on them, as their pace dropped. Bellatrix was bleeding and the two men had their arms around her shoulders as they dragged her on and on. A final sharp right and they screeched to a halt. A dead end. Rudolphus swore violently as the hit wizards came ever closer. He looked at his companions and with a nod pulled out his wand. They would never take him to Azkaban he swore. Their chances were slim, vastly outnumbered, tired and injured they would not last too long against twenty and he knew it. He just hoped they took as many as possible with them.

"Let them have…" he began but was sharply interrupted by a call. "Hey! Hey, in here quickly!" He turned to notice a short hooded figure gesturing wildly, pointing into a building right at end of the lane. The three shared a quick look before sprinting towards the stranger who ran straight into the dark opening of the building, whispering "Follow me and stay close." The hooded figure reached down near the steps and pulled open a trap door, with more steps leading down into the dark. "Hurry up!" he urged seeing the distrustful looks on their faces. Once they were in, he reached up and closed the trap door, pulling a bolt shut and softly jumping down the stairs, a torch held in his hand. The light revealed a long narrow passage with water dripping from the roof leading to another door at the end. The stranger moved quickly and quietly, running through the passage. He reached the door, fumbled with a key before swinging it open and pointing in. Once everyone was in he closed the door and locked it once again before turning and bounding up the steps.

The three death eaters followed him up three flights of steps before he turned into a dark corridor and ran to the very end before fishing out another set of keys and opening a door which led into a plain and bare apartment. He stepped aside letting them enter before turning to the door saying "You will be safe here. Farewell" before grabbing the door knob with the clear intention of making himself scarce, before he was roughly grabbed and pulled back and ended up in a heap on the cold floor.

"Did you really think we would let you lead us into an unknown room and simply leave?" Rabastan sneered mockingly. Bellatrix and Rudolphus finished closing the gash on her side before walking over to where the still cloaked stranger lay. Rudolphus reached down to pull the hood back when, like a striking snake, the figure pulled out a knife, the bluish metal gleaming wickedly as his arm arched up only for the knife to be snatched out of grip and fly straight into the waiting hand of a smirking Bellatrix who had been expecting it all along. " _Crucio,"_ the hooded stranger rolled and convulsed on the floor but surprisingly did not cry out. Frowning, Bellatrix held the curse a tad longer before a sharp cry escaped the lips of their savior. Another wave of the wand and he was bound by thick ropes but he paid no heed, instead a surprised exclamation "You can do it too?" was what came. Rudolphus and Rabastan pulled the figure up into a sitting stance before Bellatrix reached down and finally slipped the hood off his head.

For what seemed like an eternity, Bellatrix stared at the face she had unveiled. It was a boy, very young probably around eight or nine years of age, which explained the small size. His skin was a rich golden brown and his black eyes were hard and emotionless. However, these were barely registered by the stunned witch. She blinked hard and shook her head before staring down again. The boy had the copper like texture of a Greek but those features, that nose, those high slanting cheekbones, the strong but gently sloping jaw and most of all the expression of laidback arrogance upon the young face. There was only one family in the world with those features. And the hair, black and silky but long and across his forehead exactly like….but how could it be? It was impossible, surely, she thought.

She bent down till she was at face to face with the boy, hers only an inch from his while her two companions were wearing disturbed but confused looks. She looked straight into his eyes while her wand tip was pressed against his head. "Your name boy, quick and do not even dream about lying," her voice was a whisper. There was almost no change in the arrogance of the boy but she was certain she saw the first hint of fear somewhere underneath those chilling stone like eyes. "Typhus" came the short reply before her hand tightened around his neck ever so slightly, "The name your parents gave you. I will not ask again" she hissed. The boy's voice was soft yet held a hint of power as he seemed to relent and spoke. "My mother died in childbirth. I do not know who my father is, he never returned. She named me Typhus Canicula Demos."

Silence. The boy frowned in confusion as it stretched. All of a sudden, Bellatrix shrieked with mad laughter, tears rolling down her face as her hunched shoulders shook with mirth. It was a frightening laugh, the laugh of a person far down the long path to insanity. "Oh cousin, what have you done?" she giggled to herself.

She erected a privacy ward as she pulled her husband and brother in law aside. "Who would have guessed?" she chuckled. An unconvinced Rabastan stared at her before rumbling "What are you suggesting?"

Another giggle, "You never were the sharpest were you Rabastan. He never met his father and his mother christened him Canicula. Another name for the brightest star in the night sky, a hint to the name of his father. Look at him you oafs. Everything about him screams aristocracy. He even recognized magic when I disarmed him. That is no Greek muggle. My blood traitor of a cousin went and got himself an illegitimate son," she spat.

Comprehension dawned on the faces of the two wizards as they glanced back at the boy who was still staring right at them. There was no doubt. The features and the hair, the son of Sirius Orion Black. "What do we do with him? Kill him? We cannot take chances." Rudolphus murmered. "We could wipe his memories," suggested Rabastan but Bellatrix shook her head, "He might yet be useful to us. He has no ties to his father. Let me speak to him, he might be able to tell us a way out."

She strode over to the tied up boy and dispelled the ward. Immediately he spoke. "Do you know something about my family?" All he got was a wicked smile as she held a finger to his lips.

"Why did you help us? Do you know who we are boy?"

He shook his head. "I saw you being chased. I have been hunted before. I know what it is like which is why I decided to help."

Bellatrix nodded slowly. "Why did you bring us here and why were you in a hurry to leave?"

"The passage is hidden. Only few know of it. This building is abandoned and the front is blocked. No one would come in here, ever. I must get back to work. I help out in building and construction in return for food. The streets are my home. I hate the police; I did not want to get caught helping."

The boy seemed genuine so far and she continued. "Do you know a way out of here?"

"Where are you headed?" was the cheeky reply.

Bellatrix narrowed her eyes, deliberating whether to take the risk of letting out their destination. Rumors of sightings of the Dark Lord had reached their ears. Nothing concrete only whispers but it was more than anything else over the last decade.

"Very well. Albania."

"I can get you there safely. I have accompanied traders there. But you will have to do something for me," came the soft reply. Rabastan growled "You are not in a position to ask for anything brat," but the boy was undeterred. "Two things. When we are inside Albania you will tell me what you know about my family. Two, I saw what you did to the _vlakas_ earlier."

Bellatrix had decided to teach a particularly insistent roadside salesman a lesson when he had got on her nerves. It was the very reason for their auror trouble.

"You have the power. Much more than I do. Teach me."

A wild grin spread across the beautiful face of Bellatrix Lestrange. "Very well Typhus. You have a deal."

She turned away and whispered "I'm sure we will get along very well indeed, nephew."

 **A/N: As mentioned earlier, Canicula is another name for Sirius, the brightest star in the night sky. Vlakas is the Greek word for idiot, a reference that muggles are not too dear to Typhus. So Harry and Typhus have very different introductions to their kind. Bellatrix was always a very interesting character for me and she will play a large role in the story and of course Typhus' life. Next chapter, Harry's first entry into the wizarding world. I have something different in mind. Next chapter will be up tomorrow. Thanks for reading and enjoy!**


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7 : A New World

 **Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Harry Potter. All credit goes to J K Rowling.**

 **A/N: Response to SennyBee98's query 'Will Harry be trained by the Order of the Phoenix?'- While I do not plan on deviating too much from the canon characterization of Harry, there will be notable differences. After reading the originals multiple times over years I couldn't help but be slightly disappointed at how Harry never really developed his magical strength over the last two years of his schooling despite being gifted with buckets of talent and potential. So yes, the Harry in this story will not only be trained by the teachers of Hogwarts first and the Order later but essentially, will also put in the hard work himself, something we haven't seen often in canon apart from the Triwizard Tournament or while examining the potions book of the Half-Blood Prince. While he won't be as powerful as Dumbledore or Voldemort, who were once in centuries kind of wizards, he will end up becoming much stronger than the average Order Member or Death Eater much later. I haven't thought as far as the prophecy yet but as of now Harry's magical equal will be Typhus and they both will be exceptionally powerful and driven.**

 **Chapter 7**

 _31_ _st_ _July, 1991_

"I'll get it!" Harry shouted as he jumped down the steps from his newly earned bedroom, a large smile across his face. The last two days had brought about a dramatic change at Number Four. Vernon had been astonished upon returning home from work that evening, to find his wife a nervous wreck and insisting that they give the brat a room of his own. He had finally caved in while mumbling exactly what he'd do to the unnatural freaks the next time they dared to invade the privacy of his home.

The next two days were a case of live and let live as Harry and his relatives pointedly ignored each other completely although to Petunia's surprise he continued to do the chores he had been doing for many long years.

Harry had been counting down the hours and true to Dumbledore's word the doorbell sounded just as the clock struck nine in the morning. He took a calming breath and opened the door before looking around and his heart fell. There was no one outside!

"Mr Potter!"

Harry jumped at the excited squeaky voice before looking down. Before him stood a tiny old man with thick bushy white hair and an old smooth face. He was dressed in a denim jacket which looked like it belonged in the kids section of a fancy designer store with a green robe beneath it, and wore an expression of absolute delight mixed with a touch of wonder. Harry could not contain a smile as the excitable figure seemed to bounce on the balls of his feet as he reached up and grabbed Harry's hand in both of his own.

"I have waited many years to finally meet you, my boy! Oh my, where are my manners? Allow me to introduce myself. I am Filius Flitwick, charms professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, at your service!"

"It's very nice to meet you too Professor," Harry smiled widely at the still bouncing wizard who beamed up at him. "Will you be accompanying me today? I'm sorry but Professor Dumbledore did not leave much information when we met."

The excited wizard seemed to regain a small amount of composure at the mention of the work in front of them but his beaming face remained and he motioned towards Harry to follow him as he set off down the driveway, his eyes fixed on the boy beside him. "Indeed Mr. Potter. Usually the Hogwarts letter, which I'm sure Albus has already given you contains sufficient instructions and information for muggle borns to find everything they need with ease. Oh muggles is the term for people like your aunt and uncle, that is non magical folk," he clarified noticing the puzzled expression on his future student's face.

"I usually do not venture out into the muggle world but as my colleagues were all bound to various commitments, here I am! Forgive me for being so direct but I have always wanted to meet the son of my two favorite students. You look exactly like you father did, except your eyes. You have your mother's eyes." Flitwick's face darkened for a second at the memory of his students' before brightening up again once he caught sight of Harry's delighted expression at learning something about his parents.

The two odd looking duo caught a bus into London and thoroughly enjoyed the ride with the eccentrically dressed Flitwick attracting amused looks from their co commuters. Soon they disembarked in front of what looked to be an inn, a board proudly stating 'The Leaky Cauldron' hanging on the road side. Harry noticed most people seemed to walk straight past the inn, almost as if they couldn't see it. Flitwick smiled to himself. The boy was definitely sharp and had a good eye for detail. "The muggles cannot see the inn. To them it appears to be a closed run down shop, though that wasn't always the case," he informed Harry who nodded in understanding as they entered the dark inn.

"Why hello there Professor, what a pleasant surprise. It's not every day one sees you around the muggle world!" The words were spoken by a very old, toothless and bald man who was clearly the innkeeper.

Flitwick walked over to the bar before nimbly jumping onto a bar stool and motioned for the innkeeper to come closer "Hello Tom, have an important day ahead. Mr. Potter here needs his school supplies," he whispered while throwing a wink in the direction of the stunned barkeep. "We'd rather keep it quiet Tom, there is much to be done," he quickly added to the man who was about to bow down low to the observing boy.

"Mr. Potter it is an honor. I cannot tell you how good it is to have you back again. Let me congratulate you on the behalf on the wizarding world and most of all, welcome home." The man said solemnly as he gripped Harry's hand tightly. The look of joy on the innkeeper's face was not a reaction Harry was used to from people when they caught sight of him. He nervously said "Thank you Sir," before Flitwick nodded once to Tom and proceeded to lead Harry out through a door in the back.

"You will have to get used to that Harry," Flitwick began gently to the shaken boy, who looked up at the use of his first name. "You are a hero here. A living legend who delivered peace to people who had lost all hope. Delivered victory from the brink of defeat. There is not a soul who doesn't know your name in here," he said kindly.

"It will take time I suppose professor," came the soft reply.

Flitwick smiled and continued. "This is a very important spot Mr. Potter," Harry registered the renewed use of his surname as they walked through the back of the into a chilly courtyard, faced by brick wall.

"In fact one could say this is a historic spot. The inn is the gateway between the muggle world and the wizarding world and has stood proud for nearly five centuries now. Now pay attention."

The tiny professor pulled out a wand and tapped the bricks in an anti-clockwise pattern and stood back as the bricks shifted and moved to reveal the entrance to a bright road.

"Welcome Mr. Potter, to Diagon Alley, the center of wizarding London."

Harry's jaw dropped as he stepped onto the wide cobblestone main road. He felt like he was in another life as he berated himself for limiting himself to his own world in Privet Drive. Never before had he felt so alive, so excited and so happy. The polite yet guarded boy was gone and its place was a ten year old looking at the greatest gift he had ever received as his face glowed with happiness.

Chuckling at his charge's reaction, Flitwick led Harry through the crowded shopping area. "Diagon Alley is the main shopping area of wizarding London. You can find anything and everything in here and there is lots to look out for. But we must make haste, there is lots to be done. Our first stop, Gringotts Wizarding Bank, one of the safest places in the magical world."

Harry stared in awe at the huge, snow white, marbled and multistoried building before him as he climbed the white stairs leading to burnished bronze doors. Each door was flanked by a creature in gold and crimson. They were short, about the size of the professor in fact and had brutal faces with cunning sharp eyes. Harry smiled at them and wished them a good morning only to see them narrow their eyes as their faces hardened.

Flitwick pulled Harry aside and said in a low voice. "Gringotts is run by goblins, Mr. Potter. They are greedy yet proud creatures, highly suspicious and very efficient," as he pointed to the poem engraved on the bronze doors warning thieves against any attempts to rob the bank. "The wizards and goblins have a history of conflict and though there is peace today it is not without uneasiness. Goblins are not used to politeness at the hands of wizards and it only serves to make them more suspicious of your intentions. You will find being courteous yet curt and to the point is the best way to interact with a goblin. Take my word for it, I myself am of goblin ancestry though it is a fact I do not reveal to my students," he winked again at Harry. "However, enough dallying, time is short and there is lots to do," as the doors swung open.

"There, that's Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. Why don't we go and take a breather there? You definitely need it. Take a seat outside and I'll have a quick word with Florean."

Harry nodded weakly as he walked unsteadily to the bright chairs placed outside the parlour and sank into the one away from the crowd of the main street. He wiped his forehead and closed his eyes. After all it isn't every day that after years of not having a single possession of your own, you are revealed to be one of the richest people alive, having mountains of gold placed in a Goblin stronghold and accessible only through the most hellish of roller coaster rides.

He gingerly felt the weight of the money bag he was carrying and shook his head to clear it. What a day he was having. He turned around to look for the tiny professor when he received another shock. Flitwick and a bearded man with a moustache were walking towards him, holding a large cake. They placed it in front of him and lit the candle on top as Flitwick murmured "Happy Birthday Harry. Professor Dumbledore sends his best wishes as well."

The bearded man in white, clearly the proprietor of the shop shook Harry's hand. "My best wishes Mr. Potter. It's on the house. Please, it's the very least I can do for you."

He had never celebrated a birthday. He hadn't even been wished on a birthday. A speechless Harry just nodded, his eyes glistening with tears as he gazed at his first ever birthday cake. 

Once Harry was finished eating, Professor Flitwick stood up "Well, we have four more stops to make Mr. Potter, we best be moving."

Their next stop was The Apothecary, a store dedicated to the art of potion making. Harry, being a complete novice simply checked his supply list and stocked up on the required items such as brass scales, a pewter cauldron and some basic ingredients. He double checked all items on the list after a cryptic remark from Professor Flitwick "You don't want to mess up from any angle with respect to potions, Mr. Potter."

They moved on to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. The owner, Madam Malkin considered it a personal achievement to conduct measurements for the Boy Who Lived personally and waved all her assistants and salesgirls away. Harry once again read through the list and quickly selected two pairs of black work robes, a pair of dragon hide gloves, a pointed black hat, a winter cloak with silver fastenings and at Flitwick's suggestion a pair of blue dress robes in case of formal occasions.

The third shop was arguably Harry's favourite. He had always valued knowledge and Flourish and Blotts Bookseller put all libraries he had ever visited to shame. He thrust his supply list at the counter man saying "First Year," and sped deep into the shop followed by an equally excited Flitwick. He was extremely grateful to the professor who suggested and helped him pick out a large number of extra books which would be extremely helpful to him over the remaining months before he arrived at Hogwarts. They picked out books on a large variety of subjects, from his core Hogwarts subjects to wizarding history. Also included were books on etiquette, wizarding speech, offensive magic and many more which would ensure he arrived at Hogwarts well prepared for his classes and more importantly, returned to the wizarding world armed with everything a magical family raised child would know and more. The man at the counter looked surprised at the number of books they finally ended up buying and Harry left the job content and of course his money bag significantly lighter.

At last it was time for the most anticipated part of the trip. Harry had quietly observed Professor Fitwick use his wand from the very moment he had used it to enter Diagon Alley. It was clear to him that it was an essential tool for his magic to be used. Hence they found themselves outside Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands Since 382 B.C.

"Go ahead Mr. Potter. I have always believed a wizard should pick his wand away from the eyes of others. It is a very personal and important act. I have a small business that needs attending. We'll meet right here once you're done. All the very best."

Nerves tingling, Harry walked into the tiny and narrow shop. There was no furniture apart from a long platform like table and spindly chair in the corner. The tiny shop was stacked till the ceiling with thin boxes and the whole shop seemed to have a layer of dust on it.

"I wondered when I'd be seeing you here Mr. Potter."

The voice came without warning as Harry turned around in the empty shop before a man stepped out from behind the table. He was positively ancient, with light paper like skin, white hair and pale eyes. Harry sensed the man was incredibly intelligent as he looked straight into the pale eyes. "Garrick Ollivander, at your service. Now, let's begin shall we? If you could tell me your wand arm, please."

Deducing by wand arm, the wandmaker meant stronger preferred arm, Harry replied "Right arm Sir."

The next hour was a dust filled blur of boxes and wands as Harry grew more apprehensive as none of the wands seemed to satisfy Ollivander's judgement while the old wandmaker grew progressively more excited, impervious to the damage his shop was suffering with each failed wand. Finally he seemed to freeze and murmured "I wonder.." he disappeared to the back of the shop and returned with a long black box. He opened it and pulled out a light brown wand. "An unusual combination Mr. Potter but one of my best works."

Harry gripped the wand and gave it a wave and was hit by an almost orgasmic wave of power. Everything around him seemed to glow and a powerful wind appeared to blow around him. Finally red sparks flew from the tip of the wand and all was normal. "Curious. How very curious."

A bleary eyed Harry asked the wandmaker "Excuse me Sir, but what exactly is curious?"

"Holly wood, Mr. Potter. One of the rarer kind of wand woods and a tendency to choose those who need to overcome the emotion of anger and embark on a dangerous task. Notoriously hard to pair with a wand core, it usually never works when combined with a core of phoenix feather, which is one of the rarest core types. A phoenix feather core has access to the widest range of magic Mr. Potter but its allegiance is hard to win and does not come quickly. A powerful core, it chooses independent owners, those detached from day to day mundane matters which is why it clashes with the emotion driven Holly. A combination of opposites. But this wand has chosen you. Eleven inches. Nice and supple."

Harry nodded, the wheels in his brain turning, trying to figure out why he had been attracted to the most unusual of combinations. "What is really curious however is that the feather which makes the core of your wand was obtained from a phoenix who gave not one but two feathers. The other feather resides in the wand which gave you that scar. The brother of your wand was indeed the wand of He Who Must Not Be Named."

A disgusted expression crossed the young face of Harry Potter but Ollivander continued, his voice ancient and impossibly soft yet somehow seemed to drown out all other sounds. "You are destined for greatness as well Mr. Potter. All that is left to be decided is which choice you make. Which path will you tread. Deeds can indeed be terrible Mr. Potter, but remember that does not mean they are not great."

A contemplative Harry walked out of the show satisfied yet disturbed by the strange man's parting words. He was pulled out of his reverie by a soft hoot and a nip on his ear. He turned around to find himself staring straight into the eyes of a beautiful pure white snowy owl, her beak protruding through the cage as she seemed to regard him mischievously. The cage was placed on the head of tiny Professor Flitwick who squeaked "Consider this a birthday present Mr. Potter. First years are allowed pets and I took the liberty of getting one I thought you would appreciate."

Harry thanked the tiny man profusely before christening the owl 'Hedwig', a name she clearly approved of as she nipped his ear affectionately again. It was getting late and the duo quickly exited the crowded alley and before they knew it, it was time for Harry to disembark and walk home, his shopping carefully arranged in a trunk. He thanked the Professor who gave him a sharp pat on the back when he bent down to pick up his trunk and grinning to himself walked into the drive way of Privet Drive, anxious to get into his new bed after what had been the best day of his young life.

Filius Flitwick stared after the child walking into the house. Harry Potter was a gem of a boy. Polite and sharp, Flitwick had a gut feeling he would be seeing the boy very often as his Head of House over the course of the next year. Harry had used the bus trips to clear up a good many questions he had about the wizarding world and Flitwick and only been too happy to satisfy his curiosity. In hindsight he felt it was the right decision for him to come and help the boy. He was infinitely more patient than his colleagues and had felt a connection with the boy, who seemed to be at ease around the charms master. It was shaping up to be a very interesting upcoming school year indeed.

 **A/N: So the Diagon Alley trip is done. I love Professor Flitwick's character especially in canon. A powerful wizard, charms master and a dueling champion but extremely sensitive and emotional and on the tiny side as well! Next chapter a look into what Typhus has been up to since his action packed introduction to wizards. Thanks for reading and as always criticism and feedback is welcome and appreciated.**


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8 : Life On the Road

 **Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Harry Potter. All credit goes to J K Rowling.**

 **Chapter 8**

 _Greece, August 1991_

"Pass the water brat."

"You forgot the magic word," quipped Typhus shaking his head in mock disappointment before scowling as the bottle was torn from his grasp and sailed into the outstretched hand of Rabastan Lestrange.

Bellatrix and Rudolphus chuckled at the boy's antics. The introduction of Typhus into their quest had brought about a welcome change and a valuable boost in their progress. The boy had an uncanny knowledge of the land as well as the hidden paths and routes of the country. It had been nearly eight months since they had first met the young child and had made steady progress across the country since.

Albania shared a border with Greece in the far north-west of the country while the death eaters had arrived by ship at the southernmost end and hence had to cover nearly the whole length of the country.

Mainland Greece is also extremely difficult to cross on foot. Nearly 80% of the country is mountainous and it had taken them eight long and very tough months to reach the Albanian border.

There was no way they would have succeeded without the nine year old boy. While both parties were careful and insistent on not revealing any personal information until they were safely inside the country, there was no lack of conversation. Later on Typhus would look back at those eight months as the most interesting time of his childhood.

The reason was that for the first time in his life he received a proper education. The Lestranges were not your average pure bloods. While they did display all the characteristics of the oldest of pure blooded families- proud, arrogant, knowledgeable and intolerant of change, they were also the most experienced and valuable servants of the Dark Lord and over a decade of service had hardened them considerably.

The Lestranges unlike most purebloods did not require the comforts of a luxurious life and were similar to Typhus in the respect that they could survive on the streets. Many a time they went on for nearly a week without cleaning or refreshment, ate and drank only the bare necessary and stopped for rest only when it was absolutely impossible to continue, driven on by loyalty to their Lord and secretly impressed at the resilience of the mere child who more often than not, kept up with them without openly displaying any discomfort or complaints.

True to their word, every time they took a break, one of the death eaters would illuminate him on the wizarding world. Of course as he didn't have a wand and books were a luxury they could not afford then, these lessons were verbal and contained the rare occasional display or performance. Soon a pattern developed, with Rabastan teaching the boy about the history of the wizarding world while Rudolphus introduced him to the basic theory of Occlumency, the art of protecting the mind.

However, it was Bellatrix who had the biggest influence on Typhus. Her inability to bear a child coupled with her thirst to get one over her estranged cousin Sirius ensured that she took a liking to the handsome boy, much to the surprise of Rudolphus and Rabastan, who had never seen her behave civilly with a person who wasn't a confirmed pure blood.

Bellatrix taught the boy the way of the pure bloods. She taught him how to carry himself with pride, walk and talk like a proper pure blood child, to control his emotions and keep a blank face and the customs and traditions which had developed over the centuries. More importantly she taught Typhus how to manipulate magic. For a witch of Bellatrix's rare talent and knowledge, teaching a ward with no wand was never a problem.

They began with Typhus using the meditation techniques Rudolphus had taught him during his Occlumency lessons, to find and focus on his magical core and to let the magic flow through him, through every particle of his body.

Once he was sufficiently tuned to his magical core, Bellatrix taught him the basics of using magic. The intent and imagination one had to use in order to attain success in performing even the most basic of spells. They moved on to wand movements and incantations and by the end of eight months, Typhus' fundamentals and theoretical knowledge were flawless even though he was yet to pick up a wand.

The death eaters begrudgingly admitted to themselves that they were impressed by and even proud of the boy. For a while they had feared he would be too much like his Light loving father but it was not the case. Typhus had a sharper sense of humor and was never apologetic for his snide and sarcastic remarks. For one so young he was responsible far beyond his years and had an unquenchable thirst for knowledge and took his lessons very seriously. It was clear the boy would grow up to be powerful and to the bewilderment of the death eaters even showed the beginning of early development in wandless magic, a trait almost never seen except in the most powerful of wizards and they kept the startling piece of information a secret from Typhus. His arrogance and air of superiority ensured he fit in perfectly with the death eater trio and towards the end of their journey they were not quite certain if letting him go would be wise. If properly trained and influenced there was no doubt Typhus could become an ally.

What was also remarkable was that he had kept his word and in fact gone out of the way to help them. He seemed to have a large number of friends and acquaintances spread over southern Greece and often a quick fluid conversation in Greek would yield food and shelter at inns, restaurants and other unlikely and sometimes unsavory places. He was cunning as he was arrogant and a skilled pickpocket, a talent nurtured on the streets, he told them and enabled them to have cash when required much to the disappointment of Bellatrix who preferred breaking people until they offered the death eaters all they had.

Typhus also possessed an astonishing sense of direction and knowledge of routes and safer paths, often making sure they did not need to cross through major cities or the larger mountain ranges during their exhausting journey. When questioned about it, he'd give a sly smile and smirk "Later, trust me for now, would I lead you astray?" something which grated on the nerves of the death eaters in the beginning before slowly the boy earnt their trust.

Typhus was not without flaws however. Though he was extraordinarily talented and resourceful for his age, the fact remained that he was a young boy. He suffered throughout the journey, his feet bleeding after a day of non stop walking but he seemed to have a high threshold of pain. While it was not easy to evoke emotions and reactions from those stone hard eyes, once he was excited or angered he displayed a lack of control and thinking much like Bellatrix. He also refused to speak of his childhood, instead keeping to himself at the most random of times, a blank look upon his face. He also seemed interested in the views and beliefs of the Light, way too interested for the death eater's peace of mind.

It was Bellatrix who finally took a decision one night while the boy was asleep. "We will let the Dark Lord have a look at him. He has proved his worth. He has more potential than any child I have seen over the last decade. If anyone can show him the path he must tread, it is our Lord," as the death eaters nodded slowly, savoring the thought of finally being reunited with their master, the Dark Lord Voldemort.

Finally, mid-September, after nearly nine months of toil and sweat, they crossed the border of Greece and entered Albania undetected. The death eaters had heard rumours of a shadow in the Albanian forest which was terrorizing the wild life and had brought about a fear amongst the locals of the area.

While it wasn't confirmed information they decided to follow it up mainly because it was the only lead in front of them in many years. The last decade had been a test for them. From the moment they had escaped the aurors on the fateful night of Halloween in 1981 they had been fugitives with a massive price on their heads. The Lestrange Manor had been seized and the goblins notified to block entrance to the family vault in Gringotts.

Penniless and hunted the first few years had been devoted to getting as far away from wizarding Britain as possible. They moved during the nights while staying hidden in the day before finally escaping to the mainland of central Europe. It was there that they began their search. The most loyal of the death eaters, they would rather die than betray their Lord as the spoilt ungrateful traitors such as Malfoy, Avery and Rookwood had done. They were proud of their deeds; never would they use the Imperious as an excuse. And hence started their long search for their Master.

 _Albania, Mid-September 1991_

"You've got to see this!"

The death eaters looked at Typhus disapprovingly as he came running to the three death eaters who were standing in the shadows of the trees on the roadside, all his pure blood calm forgotten. An inn was visible just beyond the turning of the road, and Typhus had gone to take a look around and make sure there weren't any suspicious looking characters around, as had become the practice whenever they decided to break at a public spot.

"What is it? Hurry up I'm starving," complained Rabastan.

Typhus shot him an exasperated look before continuing breathlessly, "There's a man in there. No, he isn't wearing auror robes but I'm certain I can make out a wand in his jacket pocket. A weird sense of colour matching as well, he must be a wizard for sure."

Bellatrix spoke quickly "Let's get him. It's the first sign of any magical presence since we entered this accursed country, perhaps he can tell us something. Typhus, pocket his wand and tell him you need help with something. Anything just get him to walk out that front door! Rudolphus, Rabastan, follow me!

Typhus nodded and sped off while the death eaters raised the hoods of their robes and walked down the dark road, gleaming ominously in the moonlight.

Typhus walked into the inn. To his relief the supposed wizard was the only customer in sight. He walked over to the bar stool and bumped into the man seated on it, falling down with a small cry as a small hand expertly reached into the pocket, closed around a thin piece of wood and pulled it out in a flash. He on his stomach and in the process of turning on his back, slipped the wand into the waistband of his black track pants. "Oh excuse me Sir, forgive me I lost my footing," he said in a soft apologetic voice, his other hand pointing to his bleeding feet.

Quirinus Quirrell was ready to snap at the boy but paused as he looked at the tired and scared face of the boy, his dirty clothes and his torn feet. Memories flashed in his mind of his own childhood, being teased and made fun of for years by all children he met because of his shy meekness. He smiled generously and said "No problem child, think nothing of it."

"Oh thank you Sir. I came over to ask for a small favour. I need to load the wine barrels into the cart parked up front sir but my brother seems to have run off on me? I was wondering if you could give me a hand please?" He knew he was laying it on thick but Quirrell seemed sold. He nodded and stood up "Of course young man, lead the way."

Quirrell had barely taken a couple of steps out of the inn when he immediately surrounded. The boy darted around and ran behind him, while hooded figures stood beside him and one, clearly a woman blocked his path. His hand flew to his pocket only to find it empty. He spun around to see the boy twirling it in his hands, a wide grin on his face.

"Make one sound and we won't hesitate to kill you," the hooded woman spat as she turned and started walking towards the shadow of the trees. The figures beside Quirrell gave him rough prods and he trudged forward, a resigned expression on his quivering face.

Once they were deep in the shadows of the trees, away from the road the three death eaters turned to the trembling man. "Well, well what do we have here? Quirinus Quirrell. Or should I say Professor Quirrell, of all people." Rudolphus mocked softly.

"Who are you? I am a respectable man I tell you. By Merlin, what is the meaning of this nonsense?"

Bellatrix giggled as the terrified man tried to put up a brave front. She stared at the man as they three death eaters lowered their hoods together.

If they were expecting a fearful reaction, they would be disappointed. Quirrell stared at them for a long minute before collapsing in laughter. Bellatrix looked scandalized at the nerve of the man and lifted her wand just as the still chuckling man raised a hand.

"Now just wait a minute. An acquaintance of mine would be delighted to meet you again. And I daresay, you will be exhilarated to see him as well. He has been expecting someone to come for a long, long time indeed. The forests are not the most hospitable of places are they?" he spoke slowly and clearly and threw his head back and laughed again as comprehension dawned on the faces of the three death eaters as their jaws dropped while Typhus stood back observing curiously. "Follow me, tonight is a night of joy," he smirked as he gestured to the death eaters to follow him, all trace of cowardliness gone, replaced by an evil smile.

 **A/N: Quirrell was not possessed by Voldemort in canon until he failed in his first attempt to steal the stone, which was after he met Harry Potter, though he had already entered the Dark Lord's service. Next chapter, Typhus is has a long talk. Thanks for reading and enjoy!**


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9 : Deciding Destiny

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. All credit goes to J K Rowling.**

 **A/N: This chapter is the last one before involving Typhus for some time as the next chapter onwards we'll be at Hogwarts and remain there for quite a while. On a separate note I apparently underestimated the amount of irritation OC's generate amongst the readers on this site. Personally I have found good well written OC's few and far between but well worth the read. I just noticed that a vast number of viewers seem to have been put off by my AN in the first chapter about OC's so to those of you who've stuck by the story so far, I greatly appreciate it. I have also been told I should try and reduce the frequency of my updates in order to let the story sink in. While I was planning on daily updates I would like to give their advice a try so updates for the next few chapters will be comparatively slower probably one chapter every four days.**

 **Chapter 9**

Quirrell led the way as the others followed warily behind him. The death eaters were extremely suspicious, with Rabastan and Rudolphus watching the surroundings carefully, eyes darting all over the area looking for any sign of a trap while Bellatrix had her wand trained straight at the back of the leading wizard.

Typhus still held the wizard's wand as they moved deeper and deeper into the trees, away from the crowd of the road. After a fifteen-minute walk deeper into the forest the ground sloped sharply downwards. As the death eaters followed Quirrell in scrambling down the slope, Rudolphus helping the small Typhus, they felt a gentle tingle on their skins which signaled their entry into an area protected by muggle repelling wards as well as various safety enchantments. The slope flattened out onto a stony path which curved sharply. Right around the blind turn lay an old double floored house. Not a light was visible inside and one had to admit, the house was remote and well protected.

Quirrell walked over to the door and turned to Typhus with his hand outstretched. Typhus glanced at Bellatrix who gave a sharp nod and he handed over the wand to the wizard who gave him an approving look. As soon as Quirrell grasped his wand he had three others trained at him and he gave a soft laugh. "Such hostility. But truly the best of his ranks," and waved his wand in a series of complex movements over the black door which glowed green for a second before swinging open. Another wave and the insides of the house lit up while an eerie yellow light was seen through the first floor window.

Quirrell walked in through the entrance and turned around in a circle before pocketing his wand and holding his hands up. The death eaters slowly followed through the door and emerged in a clean, well-furnished room which clearly had a complex expanding charm placed on it as it was much bigger on the inside than what appeared from the outside. There were four rooms, a large hall, a kitchen and a back door exit while a single set of stairs led up to the next floor. Quirrell locked the door and waved his wand over it again muttering under his breath before turning and nodding his head towards the stairs. "After you," spoke Typhus with a smirk and received another approving nod from the man who began climbing the staircase followed closely by the death eaters. 

The stairs opened up into a corridor at the end of which stood a solitary door. The corridor was bathed in a gentle yellow light. The suddenly stiff and apprehensive death eaters followed Quirrell to the end of the corridor before turning to Typhus, "Well young Typhus. You have held up your end of the deal. Now is the time we fulfill ours. You will receive your answers shortly," they said softly and solemnly. "Are you sure about the boy?" Quirrell asked with a sharp look at Bellatrix. "He has earned our trust," came the short reply from Rudolphus. Another nod and Quirrell slowly and quietly held the door knob and turned it, swinging the door wide open before stepping into the room and holding it open for them to follow.

Heart hammering with anticipation Typhus stepped into the room, Rudolphus and Rabastan right behind him while Bellatrix walked beside him with a hand on his shoulder, a surprisingly protective gesture he had never experienced before from the wild witch. They were in a long hall, also filled with a pale yellow light making sight just about visible but leaving much to the imagination. The room although, was absolutely empty and had a solitary tiny window facing the direction right in front of the house. However, none of the newcomers paid any heed to those minute and unimportant details. Right in front of them at the very end of the hall, which they slowly walked towards was…well Typhus would never be able to describe it even years later and the image would remain burned onto his brain for the rest of his life.

A large mass of the darkest black seemed to writhe in the air before them. It was ever changing, for a second it seemed like gas swirling around like a black tornado of vapour before shifting into a liquid like substance twisting in a whirlpool and moving on to form a mutating solid sphere the size of a basketball, which bubbled at the surface. And the power. The mass seemed to emit and radiate power like Typhus had never felt before. It was intoxicating and for a short moment he was afraid his eyes would droop shut and his body would listen to his mind screaming for him lose himself in the delicious darkness which seemed to pull him in towards it.

All of a sudden the sphere seemed to split into millions of tiny particles before they rearranged themselves to form a face. A haunting face. Snakelike and ever so pale with slits for eyes and the tiniest hint of crimson where the eyes belonged and he felt another burst of emotion from the mass as he numbly registered Rudolphus, Rabastan and Bellatrix bow down on their knees, the witch with tears of joy streaming down her cheeks as they murmured together- "Master"

The crimson eyes blinked once before the face spoke without moving its lips. The voice which then came was never forgotten once it was heard. High and impossibly cold, enough to make one shiver and held a hint of power and anger. "My friends. My best, my greatest and my most loyal servants. Long have I expected you. Welcome!" The voice hissed softly and seemed to linger in the very air.

Bellatrix sobbed "Forgive us my lord. We searched long and hard but could not find you earlier. We have failed you Master."

"You are the ones who have remained loyal Bella. You have successfully found me. I am pleased, you have done well."

Bellatrix tears seemed to turn into those of joy as she beamed up with wide eyes at the darkness.

"We have much to discuss my loyal death eaters. But first, I see you have brought a guest! I find myself curious. Surely there must be a reason for one so young to arouse your interest Bella."

Typhus was a very confident for a young child. He had grown up facing difficulties far beyond his age and was not easily intimidated. However, he had never felt fear close to what he felt then. His skin was cold but his forehead was sweaty, his tongue seemed glued to roof of his mouth and his feet were stuck to the ground refusing to listen to his brain which was screaming at him to run far away and never return.

"The boy has accompanied us from Greece, my lord. He saved us from certain death and agreed to lead us across the country and into Albania in exchange for the knowledge of magic and information about the father who abandoned his dead mother. We would not be here until much later if not for him."

In spite of himself Typhus found himself glancing expectantly at Bellatrix. The face was silent but seemed to acknowledge her words. Bellatrix pushed Typhus forward till he was barely a meter away from the face while she stood slightly behind him. Her hand tightened on his shoulder and he felt her take a deep breath.

"He is the son of my blood traitor cousin brother, my lord."

Typhus spun around to look up at Bellatrix who was still staring at the face. Suddenly it all made sense, the resemblance between them and the shocked look on her face when she first set eyes on him. She was his distant Aunt!

A high cold laughter was heard which seemed to chill Typhus to his very soul, such was the potent venom heard in the amusement of the darkness.

"He shows potential Master, but we do not know anything about him. We felt perhaps you would wish to speak to him, as he is not sure about which step he wants to take next."

"You have done very well Bella. Step back."

Bellatrix bowed low once again before she waved her wand and a small chair appeared before the face. She nodded to Typhus who nervously took a seat and forced himself to look straight into the crimson eyes.

The face regarded him silently before shifting its form again. In its place was a young handsome face, but the crimson eyes remained. "We have much in common Mr. Demos." Came the hiss.

Typhus' eyes widened at the use of his surname. How could he possibly know?

The face seemed to sense his hesitation and spoke "I can give you everything you seek young one. All you need to do is decide for yourself and ask for it. Come now."

The darkness around the face seemed to reach out and curl around him, offering him comfort and support and at that moment Typhus Demos made a decision, giving in to the addictive darkness and the feeling of power and began speaking.

He emptied his heart and soul to the darkness before him as he revealed things no one had ever heard before. The death of his mother as she gave birth to him. The barkeep giving the baby to an orphanage, the beatings from the wardens and the teasing about his name, shyness and abuse from the older children until he could take it no more and finally snapped, using his mysterious power to throw the main offender out of the topmost window killing him instantly in a fit of rage. His flight from his prison like orphanage in the dark of the night and his subsequent life on the streets, stealing and thieving as he fled from the police and did any job as long as it earned him meals, from construction to helping at stores and so on. His return to the inn only for the old wife to tell him his mother's name with her dying breath and of the unnamed handsome Englishman who had broken her heart and will to live. Typhus' promise to his dead mother that he would avenger her, that he would strive for greatness. His hatred for the weak fools who did not have the power he had but still made life difficult for him. Typhus revealed all of himself to the Dark Lord Voldemort.

The face stayed quiet throughout the story and listened intently. Once the boy had finished and was crumpled in his chair weeping, Lord Voldemort spoke "Look at me child." It was different from the hiss. Still cold, it was almost compassionate. Almost. "We had similar beginnings. I too grew up in an orphanage. I suffered the torture and abuse of the muggles just as you have. I however, did not flee. We are wizards. We are superior to them, we are more than they ever will be and we will make them suffer. The Light seeks to unite us wizards with the Mudbloods. They risk the destruction of our kind. Tell me young one would you risk giving up the power you have for anything in the world? Of course not. The Light call the Dark evil yet look what your father did. Ruined the life of your mother, led her to death and left you on the streets to die alone and helpless, a waste of your pure magical blood," the voice spat "so much for the goodness of the Light. They portray us as evil while they destroy our world, disrespect everything the pure bloods have built over centuries of hard work and patient thinking and risk the loss of our most ancient secrets. The fools risk the loss of magic itself!"

Typhus nodded slowly, his heart burning with hate at the man who had practically killed his mother, burning with hate at the worthless muggles who made fun of him, who stole his hard earned food and money off the streets and walked away with glee as angry tears filled his eyes.

Lord Voldemort pressed his point "Use your anger child. Use your hate. It makes you unstoppable. Join me and I will see that your dreams are fulfilled. Join me and take your revenge on the blood traitor dog Sirius Black who abandoned you and your mother. I can give you power, power beyond what you have dreamt of. Never will you have to flee the weaklings again. We will be heroes young one, working to save magic from the absolute destruction. Join me Typhus Canicula Demos and you will rule the world."

It was masterful. The Dark Lord was one of the greatest orators of the age and his words captured the young boy in their spell. Typhus stared at the once again snake like face in wonder, his heart speeding as he thought of the gifts he was being offered.

"I will give you everything you never had child. You can live right here with Bella and Rudolphus as your mentors, teaching you all they know. You can attend a school of magic where you will grow amongst friends and others of our kind. You will have a place in my ranks, with your true family behind you as we walk towards a better day together. All you have to do is say yes Typhus. Swear undying service and your life will be changed. Let it never be said that Lord Voldemort is unjust. Loyalty will lead to rewards you can only imagine child. I leave it in your hands."

Right then and there, Typhus made the choice that would change his life forever. Heart burning with hate, his mind soaring at the thought of power and knowledge he fell to his knees without even realizing it, the words ever so strange from the mouth of a nine year old seemed to roll off his tongue effortlessly and smoothly.

"I swear on my life and magic to follow you to whatever end my lord. I am yours to command."

"Rise Typhus Demos, I, Lord Voldemort accept your oath. Welcome to your true family child, may you serve the Dark well and true."

A genuine smile crossed the face of Typhus Demos at the mention of family as the cold victorious laughter of the Dark Lord echoed in his ears and into the night.

 **A/N: Dark but pretty glad with how that turned out. The next two to three chapters at the very least, most probably more will focus on Hogwarts. Thank you once again for reading and all feedback is welcome. Have a great day!**


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10 : The Journey Begins.

 **Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Harry Potter. All credit goes to J K Rowling.**

 **Chapter 10**

 _1_ _st_ _September 1991_

The big day had finally arrived. After the most productive month of his life, in which Harry had buried himself in his books and carried out a meticulous preparation, it was time for him to leave Little Whinging for the first time in eleven years.

Albus Dumbledore's visit to Number Four had worked wonders for Harry's life and with the new found distraction of his school preparation, it is safe to say that it was the most peaceful month the Dursley household had experienced for many years. Harry stayed out of the way of his aunt and uncle, choosing to show himself only during meal times and for a couple of daily chores. He had fixed a schedule which was demanding but ensured he would easily finish his study of the wizarding world as well as his school curriculum for the first two months or so.

In spite of the time he had put into his studies, it was a slightly nervous Harry Potter that dragged his trunk and owl cage into King's Cross. No amount of reading and theoretical knowledge could truly prepare him for his return to the wizarding world. He knew he was smart for an eleven year old but he had never interacted with a person his age beyond a few sentences and that too was stretching it. He had read up on initiating conversation, a ridiculous 'guide to getting along in society' and various other topics of the sort but had never had a proper friend in his life, except for the remarkably smart owl who had entered his life a month ago and had been a patient listener for many a one sided conversation.

Another pressing issue was the matter of actually finding his platform. The envelope given to him by the headmaster contained a ticket for the 'Hogwarts Express' and stated the date and time as the First of September at eleven in morning. The confusing bit was the platform. Now Harry had not travelled much on trains before but was pretty certain fractions were never involved in the platform numbers. To make matters worse, his enquiries to the platform attendants about the Hogwarts Express and Platform Nine and Three-Quarters were met with various negative reactions ranging from ridicule to irritation.

Just when he was close to panicking his eyes fell upon a strange sight. Two boys, only a couple of years older than him judging by their size and more importantly, rolling large trunks with cages broke into a run straight at the solid metal ticket box dividing platforms nine and ten, a look of extreme excitement upon their grinning faces. Harry winced as they sped ever nearer to the ticket box but the crash he was expecting never came and the wince was gone and in its place was bewilderment. The boys had vanished! Harry looked at his watch and to his consternation saw that he only had ten minutes left to catch the train. Throwing all caution to the wind he broke into a run at the metal ticket box as well, squeezing his eyes shut as he braced himself for the painful obstacle….

It never came.

Harry opened his eyes and couldn't help but break into a wide smile. Before him stood a large scarlet train and a wooden board on the platform proclaimed 'Welcome to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters'.

Harry immediately felt him relax a bit. There was something comforting about the atmosphere of excitement and commotion, which was in stark contrast to the muggle platforms. The train was surrounded by children pulling trunks and carrying a variety of animals from owls to cats and as Harry noticed, even a toad carried by a chubby young boy accompanied by a tall intimidatingly strict looking woman.

Consciously making an attempt to flatten his messy hair over the tell-tale scar on his forehead, he dragged his trunk over to the very last carriage before struggling to carry it up into the train itself. Harry however, did not mind the extra effort. He was conscious of his reputation and fame within the wizarding world and being confronted by enthusiastic children filled with the desire to meet him was not something he was looking forward to, not because he did not want to meet them but purely because he did not know how to interact with them. It was true that Harry Potter unknowingly wore a polite mask but it did not hide anything sinister. It was simply a front to cover up the blank loneliness and social awkwardness of his childhood. After all it was not every day one came across a child who was more comfortable exchanging pleasantries with adults rather than fantasizing with children his own age. He was looking forward to getting to know his schoolmates but not just yet and hence chose the last carriage which would attract the fewest students through the trip.

He chose an empty compartment and sat back still panting from the exertion of lifting his trunk up onto the overhead racks. He gazed at the children crying and laughing with their parents who were promising to write to them every day. He looked at the groups of children joking around and grinning as they boarded the train engrossed in conversation. Strangely he did not feel sadness at seeing the things he had never experienced. He shook his head. He was free and a new beginning awaited him.

The first hour of his journey was uneventful. For a while he was content to stare outside the window at the trees which flashed by and marveled at the beauty of the landscape before pulling out a book on potions. He had taken Professor Flitwick's words about potions seriously and was determined to perform competently.

Suddenly the compartment door swung open to reveal three girls, each one of them dressed in the black robes of Hogwarts. "Oh a tiny firstie! Let's sit here we can give him tips on how to fight the troll when he reaches the school," the short girl was smirking but her brown eyes were shining with mirth as she threw herself into a seat right beside the very surprised Harry Potter. The second girl, a slightly taller, thin Asian girl with long straight hair, light skin and pale cheeks rolled her eyes as she spoke "Keep this up and we won't have any first years willing to be sorted. Don't mind Katie here, she's a bit too excited at the idea of having juniors," she gave a friendly smile at Harry and held out her hand to Harry who stood up and gave her his trademark polite smile. "I'm Cho Chang, this freak of nature here is Katie Bell and that's Heidi Macavoy," Cho nodded to a beaming blonde girl who gave him a cheery wave.

Mentally steeling himself, Harry smiled at each of the girls once again before replying, "It's very nice to meet you. My name is Harry Potter."

It could have been worse. Heidi's eyes widened dramatically while Cho gasped softly. Katie however, leaned half out of her seat and stared right at him as if he was a ghost. He couldn't help but chuckle. Seeing the curious looks of his companions he spoke "I'm sorry, it's just that I grew up in the muggle world and I'm having trouble getting used to the reactions. Now what was that you were saying about a troll?"

That broke the ice as Cho and Heidi giggled softly while Katie gave the partially hidden scar one last look before giving him a wide grin as if nothing had happened. She settled back comfortably before laughing "Never mind that Harry, messing around with the Boy Who Lived isn't something I'd want to do before we've even arrived," as she winked at him. Harry instantly liked the carefree girl. The fact that he was a celebrity seemed to make no difference to her as she continued to tease him.

It was Heidi who brought a resemblance of sanity back into the interaction as she said "Katie there was referring to the rumour that first years have to fight a troll to decide which house they are sorted into."

Harry had only skimmed through Hogwarts: A History, preferring to focus on the history of the magical world as a whole. He was familiar with the names of the houses though.

"Now, now don't ruin the surprise for him," smiled Cho before he asked "Well, I am familiar with the names of the houses but what exactly is the basis on which we are sorted?"

It was clear that the girls were not first years. They were relaxed and seemed to hold a happiness which could only come when returning to a very dear and close place. It was a great opportunity for him to learn more about the school from the students first hand.

Cho replied "The three of us are second years and belong to different houses. Basically, a student is sorted into a house depending on his or her character and personality. An experienced and impartial judge carries out the sorting. There are four houses at Hogwarts and while certain stereotypes and prejudices exist, it's clear that there is a trend in the behavior of the general population of each respective house."

Heidi continued, "Gryffindor and Slytherin are the two dominant houses of the last decade. Gryffindors are known for their daring and bravery and are the most active in the school. Some of the greatest wizards in history have originated from that house and hence the students of Gryffindor over the years are extremely proud. Hurt their pride at your own risk," she joked "however, they aren't known to be the brightest or quickest thinkers and decision makers, often choosing reckless choices over the logical ones. You will find Gryffindors to be amongst the most boisterous and vocal in the school not unlike Katie," she gestured at the grinning girl who puffed out her chest and pointed to a golden lion over a crest of bright red while giving him a proud look in an awful imitation of the pure bloods much to his amusement.

"Slytherin is the arch rival of Gryffindor," said Cho "they are known for their slyness and cunning and often display patience and silence, the opposite of the Gryffindors," as she smiled at a scowling Katie, "Slytherin is the most successful house of the last decade having won the inter house competition the most number of times. They are regularly proficient at subjects and are usually powerful wizards and witches. Slytherin for all its useful traits also had the most negative reputation. Its founder Salazar Slytherin is considered to be one of the darkest wizards of all time and the largest number of you-know-who's supporters came from that house," as she gave Harry a pointed look. "Also, the house is dominated by the pure bloods, who look down upon the muggles and muggle borns and are rumoured to practice the Dark Arts. There are some good people in Slytherin but the majority of the house is a bunch who keep to themselves."

Katie nudged Harry as she grinned "Hufflepuffs like Heidi there are the nicest people in the school. Hufflepuff is the least selective house at Hogwarts but the common trait is loyalty. Though they are friendly and cheerful with most people, their true loyalty is not simply won, though once obtained it is fierce. Due to their willingness to take one and all as well as their happy demeanor, Hufflepuff never wins much and is often ridiculed and described as ordinary," Harry noticed the black badger on a yellow crest on Heidi's robe as Katie gave the pouting girl a sympathetic pat before solemnly saying "although a better friend you wouldn't find."

"Lastly Ravenclaw. The Claws are a funny bunch. Known for their thirst for knowledge and ruthless pursuit of it, they are traditionally the best academic performers at Hogwarts and indeed in most of the wizarding world. What is strange about them is that they are the most open minded lot, choosing to look at a situation in a logical manner and make a decision only after knowing the facts rather than believing the various rumours flying around the school but at the same time are extremely closed, choosing to study and spend time in the library or in discussions amongst themselves rather than fool around like Gryffindors or strut like the Sytherins. For all their knowledge Ravenclaws do not contribute much to the school as a whole and like Slytherin, put themselves before everyone else," said Heidi as she nodded at Cho, a bronze eagle on a blue crest adorning her robe.

Harry gazed out of the window as he processed the information about the houses. The traits of each house had been fascinating to listen to especially how the girls had refrained from describing their own houses, choosing to do each other's. The next few hours were fun filled as Harry learnt more about the girls. Katie and Cho were half bloods while Heidi was a pure blood. In hindsight he couldn't have met better people first. Each of the girls was smart, open minded, fun loving and most of all didn't seem to care they had the 'saviour of the wizarding world' in their midst. While Harry did not reveal too much of his personal life he did give them basic information about his family and his hobbies of reading, painting and drawing. In turn he was treated to an hour of Quidditch talk. The girls were massive fans of the primary wizarding sport and as he learnt, were all planning on trying out for their respective Quidditch teams that year, as they had not been able to play in their first year due to the rule forbidding first years from bringing brooms, for safety reasons.

His companions refrained from elaborating more about Hogwarts, insisting they did not want to ruin the multiple surprises that awaited him later that evening, but also told him that he was welcome to come to them for help later if he ever needed any. The rest of the journey was spent in Harry's introduction to wizarding sweets, something he instantly loved his favourites being the pumpkin pasties and chocolate frogs while he wisely avoided the ice mice as well as Bertie Blotts Every Flavoured beans much to the disappointment of Katie who tried to sneak a vinegar flavoured one onto him.

Time seemed to fly by and before he knew it Harry was waving to the girls as they exited the compartment to let him change into his robes. A loud voice boomed in the compartment announcing their arrival at Hogsmeade Station and Harry, nerves tingling with anticipation dragged his trunk and cage out into the corridor and onto the large platform. His decision to sit in the last carriage was an excellent one as not only had he avoided the majority of the student crowd but also, the carriage was closest to the docks at the end of the platform where a large number of nervous first years were gathered. He could make out the rest of the students moving in the opposite direction before his attention was diverted as the shadow of a huge man loomed in sight as he called out "Firs' years over here, come on quickly now!" Harry couldn't help but be slightly intimidated by the giant of a man, his huge face hidden by a large bushy beard and his hands which were the size of large plates, held a lantern as he directed the last of the first years over to the dock.

Each boat could hold four students and Harry found himself sharing one with a pair of twins, he absently noticed their chocolate brown skin indicating their Indian heritage and a freckled boy with a shock of red hair. The girls were whispering amongst themselves while the boy was giving the dark water of the lake wary glances every now and then. Soon the boats were filled and the huge man, taking a whole boat by himself led the way as the boats propelled themselves across the lake. It was cold and windy and Harry nearly jumped out of skin as he thought he saw a large tentacle rise out of the water for a second before it disappeared into the darkness. A gasp from the girls pulled his eyes away from the lake and he turned his head only to freeze as his eyes fell upon a huge castle. He had seen pictures of it in Hogwarts: A History but they did not do justice to the actual castle itself. It was incredible. Seven storeys high, with tall towers rising into the sky and bright yellow lights barely visible as the wind seemed to swirl around the castle itself in a white spiral. It was ethereal, a vision from another world and Harry could not pull his eyes away from the awe inspiring sight and like most of the other first years, stunned into silence.

Eyes captivated by the castle, the next thing Harry knew was the docking of the boats and they disembarked and followed the lantern bearer up a flight of steps and onto immaculate lawns. They walked quickly down a side path towards a smaller door which swung open as they approached. Harry entered to find himself in small room which filled up quickly before a woman entered the room swiftly.

"The firs' years Professor, they are all yers," came the gruff voice of the huge man.

"Thank you Hagrid. I'll take it from here."

The woman was dressed in emerald green robes and was perfectly dressed. She had a prim expression on her severe face and her hair was combed back in a tight bun. Harry immediately decided that the woman was not one to be messed around with.

"Good evening and welcome to Hogwarts. I am Minerva McGonagall, deputy headmistress of the school. You will now be taken to the Great Hall where you will be sorted into one of the four houses before partaking in our welcoming feast with the rest of your housemates. I expect each and one of you to be on your best behavior. Any misbehavior or tom foolery now will result in your future house loosing points. Please, ensure that you are well groomed as this is one of the most important occasions of your life. The sorting will begin shortly and I'll be back to lead you to the hall. Thank you."

Professor McGonagall was to the point and crisp as she swung around and exited the larger door, presumably leading to the Great Hall, with the same swiftness as she had arrived.

"So the rumours are true then. Harry Potter has arrived at Hogwarts."

Harry turned around to look at a pale boy with slick blonde hair. He stood straight and proud and had an expression of arrogance and pride upon his young face. He smirked as whispers and gasps went through the assembled first years at his words. He stepped closer to Harry with his hand outstretched, "Draco Malfoy, Heir of the House of Malfoy. It's important you begin on the right foot, Potter. Making the right friends is the best way to start. Why don't you let me show you more about our world?"

The boy's drawl was silky and soft as he gave the other students a slightly disgusted look. Harry immediately guessed the boy was a pure blood. He grasped his hand a shook it firmly. "Harry Potter. It's very nice to meet you Draco but I think I'd like to look around for myself first. However, I hope to take you up on that offer sometime in the future."

It was a diplomatic answer. A hard look crossed the face of Draco Malfoy but he nodded and returned Harry's small smile with another shake of the hand.

Harry felt he had handled it well. The boy had not been happy with his answer but all the same he had not been rude and had avoided antagonizing the first year-mate he had met although Draco seemed way too much like Dudley for his liking.

Thankfully the other students did not have time to confront Harry as the door swung open and Professor McGonagall held it open with a curt nod "Form a straight line and follow me please. You will come up to the front only when I read out your name and there will be no talking."

Harry stepped into the Great Hall and felt his heart hammer even faster. The hall was huge and beautiful. The walls were tall and the night sky was seen in all its glory on the ceiling, the stars shining brightly. If not for the silence, Harry wouldn't have believed there was a ceiling in the first place! There were four long tables filled with students and golden plates and goblets lay on the table shining, while the students' faces appeared pale in the flickering light of the thousands of floating candles which illuminated the large hall. At the top of the hall lay another long table which was dominated by a large throne like chair in which sat Albus Dumbledore, the rest of the staff forming a file beside him

Professor McGonagall walked to the front of the table and stopped beside a small three legged stool on which lay an old, brown, tattered and pointed hat.

A few seconds of silence before, incredibly, the hat seemed to split open at the brim and burst into song! Harry chuckled softy. So much for having to fight a troll! He joined the rapturous applause as the Hat finished its song before McGonagall opened a rolled up paper and read off the first name.

"Abbott, Hannah"

A short girl with pigtails nervously walked up to the stool and placed the hat on her head as she took a seat. There was a few second silence before the hat yelled,

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Harry observed the four tables as "Granger, Hermione" was sorted into Ravenclaw. He turned his attention back to the sorting as Draco Malfoy was called up. He swaggered over to the hat and had barely placed it upon his head when it yelled

"SLYTHERIN!"

Malfoy walked over to the table on the far right, a smirk on his face as he nodded his head towards quite a few of the seniors who seemed to know him.

Soon enough,

"Potter, Harry"

Harry composed himself and walked over to the sorting hat trying his best to ignore the hushed silence that had fallen upon the crowd before whispers filled the air. "Did she say Harry Potter," and more of the kind.

He sat upon the stool and placed the hat upon his head and it flopped down over his eyes. Immediately he heard a dry reedy voice in his head, scaring the living daylight out of him.

"Welcome back Mr. Potter. Now what should I do with you?"

Harry kept silent assuming it was a rhetorical question before the hat spoke in his mind again.

"There is a lot at stake Mr. Potter. It is our choices that make who we are. I look deep into you and I see bravery oh yes, lots of it. You are not afraid of obstacles but while you have the ability to go through them, you would rather go around them. Hmm, cunning and oh my, a thirst for knowledge bordering on lust. Gryffindor and Ravenclaw are screaming for you. Hufflepuff is out of the question unfortuately, loyalty is alien to you as yet, though the potential for it to develop is clearly there.

Nearly two minutes were up and the Great Hall was showing the first signs of impatience. The hat stayed silent before speaking to Harry once again. "I have decided to extend a great honour to you Mr Potter. I must state that you will do excellently in Ravenclaw or Gryffindor. Two very different houses I must add. But I leave the choice to you. Gryffindor will lead you to greatness, oh yes it will. Greatness is in your destiny young Harry Potter, but Ravenclaw offers to you the knowledge you have always dreamt of having but it is up to you how you decide to use the knowledge you obtain. Choose wisely child, not many are offered the chance to choose."

Five minutes were up and many students were gasping in shock. Hatstalls were extremely rare yet one sat before their very eyes. Harry Potter screwed his eyes shut and finally snapped them open as the Sorting Hat split open and yelled….

 **A/N: Sorry about the long wait but a longer chapter! So Harry has reached Hogwarts. Though I have a good idea of where I'll place Harry I haven't ruled out any house apart from Hufflpuff as this Harry just doesn't have the concept of loyalty yet. Feel free to leave your preferences in the reviews or PM. The next chapter should be out in a couple of days. Thanks as always and enjoy! (And yes I thoroughly enjoyed DarknessEnthroned's description of Katie Bell in "A Cadmean Victory" and while slightly different, my Katie Bell will borrow some key elements. If you haven't read "A Cadmean Victory" already I urge you to give it a try. It is a compelling read and contains one of the best characterizations of a darker Harry Potter I have ever read. Also Heidi is listed as a Hufflepuff quidditch player on the Harry Potter wiki but she will not be a central character.)  
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	11. Chapter 11: A New Home

**Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Harry Potter. All credit goes to J K Rowling.**

 **A/N: Been a long time, sorry for the late update but will be unexpectedly busy over the next couple of weeks. A long chapter however, the longest so far. Enjoy and thanks for reading as always.**

 **Chapter 11**

"RAVENCLAW!"

The hat yelled out loudly as the blue crest of the house of knowledge appeared on the right side of his Hogwarts robes.

A second of silence prevailed before the hall burst into applause, led by the table right next to the Slytherins. Harry Potter received the loudest cheers of the evening as most of the younger claws gave him a standing ovation while the more experienced students maintained their composure but wore similar expressions of excitement.

Harry jumped off the stool and offered a slightly crestfallen Professor McGonagall a smile before walking quickly towards the Ravenclaw table. He was aware of the scrutiny he was under as the Gryffindors looked surprised and disappointed. As he walked along the table a hand grabbed his sleeve and pulled him into a seat. He looked up into the smiling face of Cho Chang as she gave him an approving nod.

He was immediately swarmed by a bunch of hands as the Ravenclaws descended upon their newest member, the sorting completely forgotten. Harry could only grin shyly as he was patted on the back and his hands were grabbed. Finally, a tall girl with blonde hair and an air of authority stood up and walked around the table as she brought the excited students back in line.

Soon the sorting ended and Harry looked up at the staff table as the Hat was carried away. Albus Dumbledore gave him a smile as his eyes twinkled merrily and he raised a goblet in appreciation to be the beaming boy. Next to him Professor Flitwick wore an expression as if his birthday had come early and Harry could not help but chuckle as the tiny professor gave him a small wave and continued to tug on the headmaster's sleeve, speaking excitedly.

He noticed Professor Snape who looked stoic as ever, a slight sneer across his face as he looked around the hall. Next to him was McGonagall who was in conversation with a stout and cheerful looking woman with wavy hair. His eyes moved on to the next figure and a sharp pain shot through his head and his scar seemed to burn as he locked eyes with the young professor who wore a ridiculous looking purple turban on his head. He stared at Harry for a second before looking away and engaging a pretty lady seated next to him in conversation.

Harry was shocked to say the least. His scar had never hurt like that before! It continued to prickle but before he could pay any more attention to it, Dumbledore stood up and opened his arms wide. "I have only two words to say to you- tuck in!"

What followed was the best meal Harry had ever eaten. He was amazed at how the empty plates suddenly filled up with a vast variety food of the most delicious kind. He filled his plate and began to eat in earnest when Cho tapped him on the shoulder.

"Harry, let me introduce you to my fellow second years. That's Eddie Carmichael," a thin boy gave him a swift smile as he shook his hand. "Marietta Edgecombe," a snobbish looking girl gave him a nod before looking away again. Cho shrugged apologetically before continuing "Marcus Belby," a boy who was eating with gusto paused to give him a cheerful wave before digging in again as Cho introduced Samantha Fawcett, who was looking at him with a mixture of awe and curiosity.

"I'm sorry I made you miss out on sitting with the other first years," Cho said sheepishly but Harry waved her apology away. The meal was enjoyable while Harry was subjected to various questions about his life before Hogwarts. While he did not go deep into detail, he was relieved to find that his new friends did not particularly care about his growing up with muggles as well as his self confessed naivety regarding experience of the wizarding world.

By the time he was done eating, Harry was filled with a warmth he had never experienced before as he joked and talked with his fellow Ravenclaws. Many were eager to meet to The Boy Who Lived and were impressed with his humility and modesty. As Harry said himself, he had no memories of the tragic event and did not believe that too much credit should be given regarding an act he didn't even remember doing.

Harry immediately liked his house mates as well. The Ravenclaws were sharp and smart and he felt completely at ease. It was easy to make conversation and discuss various topics with them and their acceptance and logical approach rather than assumptions and over excitement was something he was very grateful for. Indeed, after the first ten minutes or so, he was treated just like a regular friend rather than an unknown entity of sorts!

Eddie Carmichael was a smooth and silky character and seemed to listen closely rather than speak too much. Belby, Harry learned was well known because of his uncle who was famous as the inventor of a remarkable potion. The boy was cheerful and seemed to enjoy jokes, food and life in general. Fawcett, who at first had appeared to be in awe of Harry's reputation, soon settled down and was revealed to be a sharp and even cunning girl and was blessed with good looks. Marietta remained silent for most of the meal, only asking the occasional question. Cho whispered to Harry, informing him that Marietta's mother held a high post in the Ministry of Magic and hence the snobbish attitude. Cho herself was extremely fun. She was witty as was sharp and also gently deflected the more personal questions directed Harry's way, who was very grateful.

Suddenly all the plates were wiped clean and Dumbledore stood up once again. Harry paid keen attention to the speech, determined to take note of all rules and regulations. Towards the end of the speech as Dumbledore was marking the start of the Hogwarts song, McGonagall stood up and whispered in the headmaster's ear, wearing a puzzled expression. Dumbledore shook his head and proceeded to conduct the loud and boisterous singing which was led by a pair of twins, wearing the robes of Gryffindor, much to the headmaster's delight.

Once the speech was finished, the tables were vacated quickly. Harry noticed the tall blonde girl who had restored order at the table after he was sorted, standing at a corner and calling out, "All Ravenclaw first years assemble right here please. All Ravenclaw first years!"

Harry walked over to the girl quickly while the second years walked out of the hall with the rest of the senior students. He noticed around ten other students, curiosity evident on their faces around him. The girl counted the students off a list and turned around with a crisp "follow me," and began walking swiftly.

The first years enjoyed the walk towards the western side of the castle. Hogwarts was truly amazing. The corridors were filled with pictures and old paintings which talked and moved as they observed the first years, some waving cheekily at the surprised reactions they received. The staircases were not fixed as the girl informed them, and changed position at will, some even containing trick steps thought which one could sink and suffer a fall!

After a brief walk, the group arrived in a corridor with multiple doors. Their leader held the last door allowing them to enter a small room which merged into a winding staircase spiraling high up. A tower. The first years climbed and climbed till they arrived at the fifth floor. A large door stood on their right with a magnificent bronze knocker shaped in the form of an eagle's head.

The girl walked over to the door and stood right in front of it. All of a sudden the knocker moved as the head twisted and turned before speaking in an old and deep voice.

"If I have it, I don't share it. If I share it, I don't have it. What is it?

The girl stood still thinking for a moment before opening her mouth to answer but Harry beat her to it.

"A secret of course!"

He gasped out before ducking his head as everyone in the group looked at him. The girl grinned as the knocker spoke once again.

"Hm, good to see Ravenclaw will maintain its high standards this year. You may enter."

The door swung open and the group walked in and immediately gasped. It was wonderful! The room was large, wide, circular and very airy indeed. The stone floor was covered with a midnight blue carpet while bronze and sky blue curtains adorned the arched windows which looked out in every direction. The ceiling was domed and was dark blue as well, with lots of stars painted on it. The room had a rich but studious look to it, with many tables and chairs and three huge bookshelves which reached the ceiling in height.

Right at the other end of the room was a large statue of a beautiful woman. Rowena Ravenclaw was engraved into the platform on which it stood, which was made of white marble as was the statue itself. Next to the tall statue was another arch which contained a flight of steps.

The group was torn from its silent admiration of the common room as the main door swung open again and revealed a tall, neat, well-groomed boy with perfectly combed hair and a friendly smile.

"Hello there. Has the boss been giving you the silent treatment? Don't worry about her, she'll come around soon enough."

The tall girl glared at the newcomer playfully as he walked up and stood beside her. The first years broke into smiles looking at the likeable boy teasing the intimidating blonde.

"Introductions are in order! I am Robert Hilliard and my cheerful counterpart here is Penelope Clearwater. We are the fifth year prefects and a very warm welcome to Ravenclaw, the house of knowledge, wit, learning and wisdom. Our Head of House will be here to speak to you shortly but let me give you a brief outline of our house. Academic excellence is something of an unwritten rule in Ravenclaw but seeing that all of you were sorted here, it means you have the potential to be brilliant in any field you put your mind to. For us, studying is not a burden, it is a thing of fun and of interest!"

"The other houses criticize us at times for keeping to ourselves and because of our study habits but Claws stick together as always. Work hard and be happy and you will find yourself bringing repute and glory to yourself and your house as well! After all, you are responsible for earning and losing house points, which are awarded or taken depending upon your actions and performances. The prestigious house cup is awarded at the end of the year and it is time someone broke the Slytherin dominance."

Penelope rolled her eyes at Robert's grand words and took over. "Now that you know what is expected of you, welcome to your home for the majority of the next seven years! This is Ravenclaw Tower. As you have already witnessed, a riddle must be answered to gain entry into the tower. The riddles are not overly difficult and serve as small but effective way to keep one sharp and up to speed. Remember this, you are NOT to reveal the location of the common room to any other student who does not belong to Ravenclaw! This is a very firm rule, the locations of the common rooms of the houses are kept secret and are known only to the students belonging to the particular house."

"We have often been told by the professors that our common room is the best." The usually intimidating girl smiled softly and continued "the view is breathtaking. During the day we can see the school grounds, the Herbology Gardens, the Quidditch Pitch, the Black Lake, the Forbidden Forest and the mountains as well," as she pointed to the arched windows. "The common room is pleasantly airy and has every requirement for comfort, relaxation and some light studying. While the Library is much more extensive, we have a collection of copies brought in from there. The first to third years have a shelf. While the other two are for the fourth and fifth years and the sixth and seventh years respectively."

"Ravenclaw follows the dormitory system. The staircase next to the statue of Lady Ravenclaw leads up to the dormitories. Boys and girls have separate dorms and girls alone may visit the boys dormitories till ten in the evening. Lady Ravenclaw believed in responsibility and having the common sense to be aware of one's limits. Any misbehavior or breaking of the rules will be dealt with severely. I would also suggest you steer clear of the senior dormitories as they do not look kindly upon intrusion by the junior students. The first and second years share the same dorms, however divisions are made and first years have a part to themselves."

Penelope spoke seriously while ignoring a chuckling Robert and the embarrassed first years. Harry noticed the girl he vaguely remembered as "Granger, Hermione" from the sorting shaking her head as she muttered under her breath. He smiled in amusement as she noticed his stare and turned bright red just as the door swung open again to reveal Professor Flitwick and a pearly while figure of a beautiful young woman, translucent and haunting as she floated into the room.

"Welcome to Ravenclaw. I do not anything to say to you except remember that there are other things in your long lives ahead of you apart from knowledge. Do not let it dictate your lives. Pursue it but do not lust after it. If any of you truly need help you, may approach me. I must inform you however, I do not take kindly to tomfoolery. I hope you uphold the honour of the name of Ravenclaw."

The voice of the ghost was cold and held great pain as her expressionless face contorted in pain and sadness for a split second before once again turning blank as she floated through the wall and into the night.

Flitwick quickly took it upon himself to dispel the ominous atmosphere the ghost had brought about. He nimbly jumped onto a chair as he faced the stricken students.

"That was the Grey Lady, the ghost of Ravenclaw House. Do not be put off by her aloofness. Remember, if you truly are in need, she will help you in every way possible. I am FIlius Flitwick, your Head of House and also your Charms professor. Congratulations on being sorted into the great House of Ravenclaw. This is the beginning of your journey. Not the journey through school or even the journey to knowledge and wisdom, but the journey of life. This is by extension your family, and you will live together for seven long years to come. Ravenclaw has a reputation for producing excellence and I expect you to continue the trend. In fact, I have full faith that you will. Do not forget to enjoy yourselves but at the same time remember why you are at Hogwarts. Perform with merit in your classes and follow every rule at all times. Remember now, my office which can be found on the seventh floor, thirteen windows to the right of the west tower is always open to you at any time. Feel free to come forward regarding even the smallest of issues. My main priority is your well being and I am at your service."

The speech was met by strong applause from the first years who couldn't help but like the tiny professor. He smiled widely at them before "well I think a good night's rest is in order. Breakfast is at seven thirty in the Great Hall. I will also be supplying you with your time tables then. Do not disappoint me by being tardy on the very first day! Mr. Hilliard and Ms. Clearwater will show you to your rooms and will also accompany you to the hall tomorrow morning. Have a good night!"

With that, Professor Flitwick jumped off the chair and with a nod to the prefects exited the common room.

"Before we direct you to the dorms, I expect all of you to be down here by seven-fifteen sharp tomorrow morning. Ties and robes are compulsory and we will be taking points if you fail to dress accordingly. We will accompany you to the Great Hall, do try to memorize the route, Hogwarts is vast and it is easy to lose one's way. Now follow me."

The first years followed Penelope and Robert up the staircase and arrived at the first floor. Another flight of stairs lay before them while there were two doors at opposite ends of the landing. The door on the right had a board with 'Girls' upon it, hung right above the door while the door on the left was beneath a similar board stating 'Boys'.

Robert led Harry and three other boys to the door and swung it open. A large painting of a grand eagle was on the wall in front of them, between two doors. Robert turned to the four and said

"The door on the left leads to your dorm. Once you get to know the second years, feel free to visit them as well it would be helpful for you to learn from their previous experiences. The changing rooms and baths are within your dorms. See you tomorrow morning. Good night!"

Robert gave them a last smile and left the room. The four boys looked at each other awkwardly before a boy with blonde hair walked forward and opened the door. The boys walked in and looked around. Harry couldn't resist smiling; the dorms were more comfortable than anything he had ever experienced. The room was large and posh with dark blue carpet lining the walls. There were four beds in each corner of the room, with light blue bedsheets and covers. A tiny window, barely noticeable from the outside of the castle opened up facing the Black Lake. Next to each of the beds, joined to the wall were a cupboard, a table and a chair made of antique wood.

Harry opened up a door at the rightmost end of the room to reveal a large marble changing room, with four bathrooms and toilets. He walked out and looked at his three companions who seemed to be just as amazed as he was at the hotel like comforts offered.

"Wow." They exclaimed in unison before grabbing their chairs and taking seats by the window, the Black Lake gleaming the moonlight as tentacle emerged lazily from the water, much to the astonishment of the onlookers.

Over the next hour, Harry got to know his roommates. The blonde blue-eyed Caucasian boy was Anthony Goldstein and was a half-blood. Next was Michael Corner, who had long black hair, brown eyes and was the only one who seemed to be as nervous and shy as Harry. Michael was a half-blood as well. Last was the only pure-blood, Terry Boot. Slightly shorter than Harry and had a sharp sense of humour and sarcasm. A large amount of time was spent explaining parts of Harry's muggle surroundings and lifestyle to Terry and Michael who had no experience of the Muggle world.

Harry and Michael took the beds on the side of the window while the other boys settled for the opposite side. As he lay in bed, Harry closed his eyes and looked back on the day. It had only been a few hours but he was filled with the indescribable feeling which could only be that of homely comfort. Bar a few awkward moments he had been lucky enough to meet extremely nice people who did not seem to mind his past, his shyness and in fact his very presence. He looked around the dark room one last time before drifting into the most peaceful sleep he had ever experienced, his mind filled with thoughts about the incredible world of magic. For the first time in his life, Harry Potter felt at home.

************  
 _Headmaster's Office_

A late night meeting took place in the tranquility of the Headmaster's Tower. Albus Dumbledore sat still, his eyes closed as if in a trance before McGonagall spoke, as the other heads of houses looked on.

"Well that's the Sorting for you. Always a surprise or two. But I would never have thought I would see the day the son of Lily and James was not sorted into Gryffindor." MxGonagall said indignantly.

"You haven't met the boy yet Minerva. He is a true Ravenclaw at heart. Personally, I look forward to seeing him in class. He did buy a large number of books; I expect him to be well prepared!" Flitwick countered, seeing McGonagall's surprise at Harry Potter not being sorted into her house.

Dumbledore opened his eyes, "Ravenclaw is a good house for Harry. I daresay it is the house which has the highest chance of allowing him to fulfill his magical potential."

Snape snorted, "If the boy is anything like his father, that won't be saying much Albus."

McGonagall glared at Snape before pressing on urgently, "Albus, what about the hidden item. I thought you were going to warn the students to stay away from that place? I shudder to think what can happen if a first year comes across that chamber by accident."

Dumbledore shook his head, "this group of first year's has the potential to produce some of the best wizards and witches we've seen for a while. This is probably the best set Hogwarts has seen over the last decade. At their age, telling them explicitly to NOT do something will only strengthen their resolve and curiosity to do exactly the opposite. No, it's best we keep that secret to ourselves. A whisper of this getting out will have far reaching consequences."

The gathered Professors shared wary glances. Dumbledore shook his head again "there is no use in worrying now. What has to pass will pass. Do keep an eye on Harry in class. If he displays quick development, we may be able to use the time we have to begin training him. For now, secrecy is the key."

He knew he was taking a risk, but then Tom had always been the brightest student he had ever taught. All it needed was one slip and he would pounce. In a way, no news was bad news and meant that Albus Dumbledore was constantly looking over his shoulder for any sign that would lead to answers as to what the elusive Dark Lord was planning.

 _Defence Against the Dark Arts Office, Hogwarts_

Unknown to the teachers of Hogwarts, a plan was already in motion. Quirrell sat in at his seat, his turban loosened as he pointed his wand at the door and put up the strongest silence and secrecy wards he knew.

"That was a mistake. Not announcing the location of the stone gives me an advantage. There was always a chance some of those brats would walk in on us trying to obtain it. Not being warned about the danger of that chamber will ensure their curiosity is not piqued."

The cold voice of Lord Voldemort seemed to echo throughout the room eerily.

Quirrell nodded to himself "When do you think it would be prudent to make a move, my Lord?"

"You must be patient Quirinus. For the first couple of months or so, Dumbledore will keep a close eye on the stone and the boy. Any suspicious move during that period will give us away. Use the time well Quirrell, I will be most displeased if you let me down again."

A sharp pain flared in Quirrell's head as Voldemort expressed his displeasure at Quirrell's failure to obtain the stone from Gringotts. Dumbledore and the goblins had managed to cover up and prevent news of the break in leaking out. After all an attempted robbery in the so called safest place in Britain would not do well for public opinion and the incompetent Ministry had only been too happy to aid the proud goblins in maintaining their image.

Voldemort was determined not to repeat his mistakes from the last war. He had been rash and acted at the time in a manner unfitting of a master strategist as himself. Apparently Dumbledore had learnt from the past as well. As the very first whisper of a nameless shadow surfacing in Albania reached the ears of the Headmaster, he acted quickly and took steps to protect the most obvious route available for Lord Voldemort to return.

The Dark Lord was biding his time. He had three of his most powerful servants available to him, as well as a young boy from a powerful wizarding family ready to be shaped into any type of ally Voldemort desired and of course Quirinus, a host for his body and a valuable servant considering his post right at the heart of Hogwarts. And all of this with Albus Dumbledore none the wiser. He had the element of surprise on his side and was in a position of strength.

Why then, with multiple options available to him, had the Dark Lord resisted speeding up his plans?

For one, he did not have enough servants at his disposal. Large questions marks hung over the loyalties of Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape, two of his most powerful inner circle members. The rest were either dead or in the hell that was Azkaban.

Hence he had decided to move for the Philosopher's Stone. It would not only help free him from the cursed half existence he was bound to but also would allow him to research and experiment further along his path to immortality.

The Lestranges had been shocked and disappointed, to say the least, about his decision to keep them out of action for a year. They had been left under the protection of Quirrell's secluded house deep in the Albanian Forest. They needed the rest to recover from a decade of strain of living on the roads and constantly on the move. However, he was pleased with his decision. They would join with Nagini and await his arrival after Typhus departed to Durmstrang. The boy. Something told him that the boy was important for the future. His education and training was necessary. The Lestranges would take care of him for now.

His mind fixed on his scheming, he lazily sent another shock of pain through the servant who had failed him. Yes, his plans were coming along very well indeed.

 **A/N: Longest chapter so far. I have sorted ten students in Harry's year per house. Numbers were never J K Rowling's strongest point and she has claimed Hogwarts held around 1000 students, although most evidence through writing and common sense displays the actual population of Hogwarts would have been around 300 students. Also, Robert Hilliard is listed as the prefect who took charge of the Ravenclaws when Harry was a first year. Penelope is of Percy's age and she would be a fifth year at this time, hence a prefect.** **Next chapter, Harry's first day of classes and some new friends. Should be up by the weekend. Once again sorry for the late update and as always enjoy and feel free to review and criticize.**


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